A Light That Never Goes Out
by Goldylokz
Summary: Third in Nine to Five series - Tensions run high at the Institute with teammates & allies at each others throats preparing for the Apocalypse: a battle they know little about other than it will happen soon. Will they be ready? Romy, Jonda, Kiotr
1. Things Will Never Be The Same

**A/N:** This is the third story in the Nine to Five series (1._Nine to Five,_ 2._November Rain_, 3. _Light_). I recommend you read the first two stories to fully understand the relationships between the characters.

This may be my final story in the series. I have more ideas, but don't know about how much time I'll have to finish them.

The first few chapters are incorporating "Self-possessed" and "Under Lock & Key" into the story.

This story will also betaed by EE's Skysong, because she rocks.

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

**_There is a Light that Never Goes Out_: Chapter One – Things Will Never Be the Same**

Sunlight penetrated the dark comforter strewn over the Goth's head. She groaned and rolled over, pulling her covers tighter around her body. Underneath the sheets she blinked, wide awake. After a few minutes of struggling to fall back asleep, Rogue gave up. As she pealed the layers off her face, she heard a noise and burrowed further into her bed. Holding her breath, she strained to hear more, but the mansion was silent late that Monday morning.

Flinging the comforter away from her, Rogue sighed and shook herself. After returning early Sunday from her ordeal at Genesis Medical in the hands of "Mr. Sinister" (1), she spent all of Sunday in bed. At first she was exhausted, then she was scared. She could hear murmurs around the mansion and suspected they were about her. Rumors of where she had disappeared to and how Gambit had brought her home practically naked spread through the lips of everyone in the mansion.

Kitty was sought after the most for her theories, but from what Rogue could catch from snippets of conversations held outside her bedroom door, Kitty's mouth was mostly sealed. Her roommate told only Jean, Scott, and Kurt all she knew, which wasn't much. Remy was the only one besides Rogue that knew what had happened.

Spying a generic manilla file folder beside her bed, Rogue remembered the file Remy stole from Essex, detailing the work done on her. According to the file, she received the first dose of a three-part gene-therapy treatment. The full treatment would activate her latent X-genes, which Essex believed would allow her conscious access to any power she had ever absorbed. He did not know the effects that would have on her mind or memories. _Didn't care, more likely. _It didn't say anything about what an incomplete treatment would do, at least not in a language that she understood.

Rogue sat up and pulled a blanket around her shoulders. She knew she should get out of bed and tell the adults what went on Saturday and show them her file, but she couldn't stand the disappointed looks or sighs she knew she'd get. Ever since she joined the X-Men she had tried to show them that she could, in her own way, live up to their expectations, but on Saturday she fell so far down that she didn't think that she could ever recover.

She needed to talk to someone who understood. She needed to call Remy. Maybe he could give her the boost of confidence she needed to approach the instructors. He did manage to convince her to come back to the Institute.

Rogue leaned over and picked up the phone off the cradle. Her fingers automatically pressed the buttons, having memorized his number already. The phone only rang once before she was transferred straight to voice mail.

Pulling the receiver from her ear, Rogue stared at it as if the phone insulted her. She hung up without leaving a message, theorizing that Remy might have been training or something. _They do that at Magneto's too, right?_

Bored, Rogue looked around the room, trying to think of something to occupy her time. She sighed and snatched a paperback off her nightstand. One page into it, she realized it was Kitty's book. Seconds before she chucked the book across the room, Rogue came up with a better idea. She smirked and grabbed a pen off the stand to write special messages and analyses in the margins.

At two o'clock, Rogue slammed the receiver down for the fourth time. She wasn't sure if she should be angry or worried that Remy didn't answer. Her stomach answered with a growl.

It would be another hour before the other kids started returning from school. Rogue took a deep breath and slid into her robe. Peeking out her bedroom door, she made sure the coast was clear before venturing down to the kitchen. She padded down to the kitchen, breathing a sigh of relief when she got there without any encounters with the adults.

Rogue did not realize how hungry she was until she pulled open the kitchen door. Immediately she dove into the refrigerator, scavenging for something edible.

A voice behind Rogue spoke, sending her a few inches into the air. "There haven't been any good leftovers since you stopped cooking dinner."

"Storm!" Rogue exclaimed. "Ah- Ah didn't see ya there."

The former African goddess brought a steaming cup to her lips. "I'm sorry I frightened you."

Rogue bent over into the coldbox and fetched a Tupperware container that appeared to hold mac and cheese. "That's okay."

The two coexisted in silence aside from the quiet buzz of the microwave and the occasional rustle of the newspaper. Rogue was severely uncomfortable, but not enough to say anything.

Ororo casually looked out over the newspaper and cocked her head. "Are you feeling all right, child?"

Despite Ororo's non-pressuring tone, Rogue clammed up. "Uh. . . yeah. Ah just needed some sleep."

"Good," she replied in a way that meant she didn't believe a single word. Storm finished her tea and folded up the newspaper. On her way out, Ororo gave Rogue an all-knowing, motherly stare. "Rogue, know that if there is anything you wish to talk about, school, life, boys. . .my door is always open."

"Well. . ." Rogue's hesitation caused Ororo to pause and look back. Rogue's voice caught in her throat. After a minute, she sighed. "Nothin'."

Ororo closed the kitchen door. "Are you sure?"

Rogue shifted her eyes. "Ah just. . .Ah. . ." She looked up into Storm's eyes. "Ah screwed up real big this time, and Ah don't know if they'll forgive meh."

"The other X-Men, you mean?"

She nodded and studied her worn gloves.

"You need to give them more credit. They're your friends; they'll forgive you."

"That's what Remy said, but Ah lied to them all. Things will never be the same."

"Life has a funny way of changing things. You and the rest of the X-Men have a strong bond between you. I have faith that your friendship will grow and become stronger as a result, but only if you try."

Rogue nodded and stared at the kitchen wall. Ororo turned to leave once more before Rogue's voice brought her back in. "Storm, there's something else."

Before she could go on, Professor's voice popped into her head as well as Ororo's. **Sorry to interrupt, but Rogue, you have a visiter at the front gate. I suggest you go quickly before Logan welcomes him.**

A small smile spread across the Goth's face. _Remy's here_. Forgetting about her meal in the microwave, she sped past Ororo and out the front door. Upon reaching the front gates, she was sorely disappointed and a little faint from the run.

"What the hell are ya doin' here, John-boy?" she asked the Australian.

Above them, St. John Allerdyce extinguished the fire spelling her name and griped the iron gate as if he were a prisoner. "You need to let Remy out from under your bed. People are starting to ask about him." He stopped, but before Rogue could answer, his eyes lit up. "Oh, and can you talk to Wanda for me?"

"Gumbo ain't here, firebug," Logan called as he approached Rogue and John.

"You sure?"

Logan tapped the side of his nose. "The nose don't lie."

"He hasn't been here since early Sunday mornin'," Rogue added.

John strained his brain in thought. "If he's not with you, and he's not with me, and he's not at the base. . . then where is he?"

A cold lump moved down Rogue's throat. "Ah don't know. Ah tried ta call him -"

"Me, too."

"No," Rogue whispered. She recalled Remy's stories of Essex and Genesis Medical. Coupled with her own experience, she knew Remy's disappearance wasn't good. _Remy said Essex didn't want him back, but would they kidnap him ta get ta meh?_ Her breathing became shallow, and she started sweating.

Logan sensed her fear. "What's goin' on, Stripes?"

"It's just that the people that took meh. . . Remy used ta work for them, and they weren't too happy he left."

St. John gasped. "You don't mean. . . Mr. Sinister?" he asked melodramatically, trying to lighten the mood.

Logan marched to the key pad by the gate. "Move, bub," he told St. John, but the Aussie didn't listen. The gates folded inward, taking the Aussie with them.

"Wheee!" John cried before the gates stopped abruptly, sending him to the ground.

With Rogue following closely behind, Logan walked to the place in the forest where he had found Rogue and Remy thirty-six hours before. The rain Sunday evening had washed away many of the smells, but Logan was determined to find something.

St. John caught up to Rogue while Logan was sniffing the ground. He giggled. "I see Paris; I see France. I see Badger's under-"

Logan stood up straight, popped his claws and growled.

As St. John stiffened, closed his eyes, and waited for his life to pass before him, Rogue watched a different, fearful and very real sight unfold before her. Sabertooth and Magneto entered the clearing. Immediately Sabertooth and Wolverine began circling. Magneto approached majestically, dragging Colossus's motorcycle behind him.

Seeing the motorcycle she and Remy spent Saturday night on, Rogue gasped. Hypnotized, she approached the bike, but Magneto pulled it away from her.

"What are you doin' here?" Logan barked.

Putting two feet on the ground, Magneto rolled his eyes. "Looking for my lost employee." He turned to the firebug unsuccessfully hiding behind a tree. "Pyro, stop cowering and take the motorcycle back to base. Sabertooth, this is not the time for personal vendettas. Find the scent."

Fearful that Magneto would punish him for coming to the X-Men before approaching him, St. John did as he was told. Sabertooth was less accommodating.

Taking matters into his own hands, Magneto forced Wolverine's adamantium-laced skeleton against a tree and stepped in front of Sabertooth. "Thank you for your offer of assistance, but it is not needed. Sabertooth, - "

Crossing her arms and popping her hip, Rogue snorted. "Ya think ya're goin' out lookin' for Remy without meh, ya're crazy."

Magneto chuckled. "My dear, you are not even dressed."

Rogue's face grew red, and she growled. Her hair, tied up in a pony tail, grew a little longer as did her nails. The world grew a little muted and fuzzy, but she ignored it. "Doesn't mean Ah can't take ya down again." She leapt, fangs raring, but she bounced off a magnetic force field.

Irritated, the megalomaniac released his grip on Logan. "Wolverine, restrain your student. She may hurt herself."

On the ground, the world spun a little, but Rogue ignored it. Rolling back to her feet, Rogue got in attack position, but Logan stepped in her way. "Move!"

Logan observed Rogue's shakey stance and extraordinarily pale face. "You're in no condition, Stripes -"

"Ah'll show ya. . ." Rogue jinxed herself with those words. Taking a step she plunged into darkness.

* * *

As Wolverine gathered Rogue's limp form, Magneto said, "Really, Wolverine, you should take better care of your students."

Wolverine snorted. "Least it doesn't take me two nights to figure out when one of mine goes missing."

Logan turned and caught a whiff of someone he hadn't smelt for months. "Mesmero?" he whispered. He smelled the air again to confirm before turning back to the Acolytes. Sabertooth and Magneto were discussing the same mystery scent.

"His name's Mesmero," Logan interrupted. Pyro jumped, Magneto raised an eyebrow, and Sabertooth growled at being outdone.

"The X-Men have had dealings with this Mesmero before?"

Logan nodded. "Telepath. He hypnotizes people into doing his dirty work for him. He kidnapped Jean and some of the others a few months back to steal some fancy jewelry for him."

"Why are you sharing such valuable information with us?"

"Mesmero's workin' on something. We don't know what it is, but Chuck's pretty sure about one thing: It's bigger than anything we've ever faced before. If he's right, the X-Men might not be able to handle it alone."

"A collaboration?" Magneto laughed. "You may lead children into battle, but my men are professionals."

Logan shrugged. "It's your funeral." He turned and carried Rogue back to the Institute.

Magneto and Sabertooth discussed their next move while St. John looked urgently after Logan and Rogue. "Wait up," John called. "I need to ask her about Wa. . ." He felt Magneto's eyes burn into his back and stopped before saying any more.

Magneto cleared his throat, waiting for an explanation.

John stopped and turned. ". . .watching my back. What if this Mezzy-o guy is still around? I don't want to be walking up to the ute all alone. He might take me too." John put on a dopey grin, hoping it would sell his story. It didn't.

"His scent is two days old. There is no reason for you to hide behind an X-Men's skirt nor 'ask' them anything. Besides, I doubt Mesmero would find a mind in your skull to control."

John huffed at the insult, then sighed as he pushed the bike away from Wolverine and the unconscious Rogue to the road. He'd have to find another way to ask Rogue to help him fix the Wanda situation.

* * *

After taking one step toward Piotr's motorcycle early Sunday morning, Remy blinked and found himself outside the gates of a different estate with a charged card and bo staff in hand. "Where am I?" He jumped when he saw his boss standing in front of a tattooed man wrapped in iron rods. Some fifty feet away, Warren Worthington III was sprawled on the ground, breathing but unconscious.

Was Magneto attempting to recruit Angel again? Remy struggled to remember how he had gotten there with them, but nothing seemed familiar.

He instantly panicked. Did Malice follow him from Genesis Medical and possess him? He didn't feel like he did after she possessed him. Usually he was light-headed, fuzzy and open to suggestion, not wide-awake and paranoid with a total blackout.

Magneto reached into his prisoner's cloak and pulled out a green rock. "And as for this relic. . .let's find out if it was really worth it." He turned and started floating away, pulling his prisoner behind him in his iron cage.

Remy couldn't believe Magneto would took off without explaining anything to him. What was this relic? Did he steal it? Why didn't he remember? Who was the freak in the cage? And what did it have to do with Birdboy?

No, wait. This was Magneto he was dealing with. He never divulged any information that would put someone on equal footing unless he had to.

Remy sighed and started after the shrinking dots in the sky. Maybe he would see something familiar and be able to make his way back to the base. Confused, Remy surveyed the sky again. He didn't think it was that clear a few minutes ago. At least, what he thought was a few minutes ago. Diving into his jacket pocket, Remy yanked out his cell phone. The display was dark; the battery was dead. He swore and kicked a random rock.

Preoccupied with finding out what happened, Remy never noticed a hairy man step out of the bushes. "What? Your girlfriend didn't call?" a mocking voice said behind him.

The Cajun charged his phone, prepared to throw it, until he realized it was only Sabertooth. "Good to see you too, 'Toothy. You're not on de short leash tonight. Did Mags finally cough up de bucks for an invisible fence?"

Sabertooth snorted and flicked something from his teeth. "Didn't realize you wanted to find your own way back tonight." He turned to run off into the woods.

"Wait," Remy called, kicking himself because life had come down to relying on a hair-ball for directions. "Where the hell are we?"

Sabertooth chuckled. "What's in it for me?"

"A scooby snack," Remy muttered under his breath as he thought of a real answer.

"I heard that."

The Cajun winced at being so stupid. He was not thinking clearly. He was a master thief and a decent strategist. He was coming at this problem all wrong. Feeling his mojo returning, Remy smirked. "How 'bout you tell me how to get back so Magneto doesn't blame you when I don't show up?"

Sabertooth growled. "You'll show up."

"Oui, but I could take my time. Just enough to make your life a living hell, homme."

Sabertooth hesitated to call Remy's bluff, but he broke under Remy's confident smirk. He growled and gave Remy the information he need before taking off into the night.

* * *

"Come back, Blue Monkey Remy (2)!" St. John screamed. One of the plastic pink flamingos the purple Peeps were wielding bit his shoulder (3). The second time he was bit, he opened his eyes. John was transported to a kitchen table littered with empty cigarette packs. Or someone simply woke him up.

The Aussie flung his arms around his very real friend. "Remy, you saved me!"

Remy was too tired to push him off. "And dis is my reward? Can't I get de donkey behind door number two?"

St. John let go and looked around the room, confused. "Where did your sexy blue monkey girls go?"

"Dey climbed back into dat crazy noggen o' yours."

Disappointed, he sighed. "Shoot. I thought I had a chance with one of them too."

"What about Wanda?"

John's face fell further. "Oh, Magneto asked her to make me more miserable, so she stuck me in a microwave with jousting purple Peeps. But you know, what I want to know is why I was in that four-fingered man's handbasket? OH! That reminds me. . ." He stood up and punched Remy in the stomach with all his might.

The Cajun shoved John over his chair and into the wall. When he regained his breath, Remy asked, "What de hell was dat for?"

"I should be asking you that question! You don't kill the messenger!"

Remy towered over the irate Aussie. "John, if you don' start speakin' sense. . .at least more sense t'an you are now, I'm stealin' all your candles and givin' dem to Sabertooth."

"At Xavier's today, the badger punched me and told me to pass it on to you and tell you, 'You're an idiot, and don't forget our talk.' Then he carried Rogue inside - "

Remy raised his hands. "Hold up! Why wasn' Rogue walkin'? And why were you at Xavier's?"

"She fainted. Something about not eating for a few days." John hadn't finished his sentence before Remy had lifted John's cell phone and dialed the Institute's number. The Aussie sighed at the loss of his audience. He righted his chair and sat. Picking up the ashtray, he scanned it for the longest stub to try and re-light.

Remy paced as he talked. "I need to speak wit' Rogue. . . . Just let me. . . Can't you- Fine. Tell her I called when she's up." He laid the phone on the table and slid it to John. "He said she was restin', and he wouldn' let me talk to her."

John replied coldly. "What a surprise. It's only. . ." He squinted at the microwave clock; his eyes widened, and he looked at his watch. "Woah. Late."

"What's your problem?" Remy snapped.

John flung his arms in the air. "I don't know. Maybe I slept with Wanda, she beat me up and dumped me, Magneto interrogated me about where you were when I haven't seen you since Thursday, Petey and Mastermush are coming early and I haven't finished Petey's present yet, Wanda won't talk to me or see me or take my calls, I got caught talkin' to Rogue, and I've having nightmares where Wanda tortures me with purple Peeps and a strange, blonde mullet man is carrying me around in his handbasket while Cyclops is wearing flannel and singing about brains."

His friend blinked and sat down. "Sounds like your weekend was as shitty as mine."

"At least you beat Dreamcoat back here."

Shrugging, Remy replied, "I took a cab."

John stared off at nothing. "I know you didn't bring back any flying monkey ladies, but did you grab any alcohol? Or maybe some cigs?"

His infamous smirk spread across Remy's face. He stood up and disappeared into his own room. When he came out, he had a carton under one arm. Instead of going to the kitchen, Remy walked back to Piotr's room and returned with two bottles in addition to his cigarettes.

John's blue eyes sparkled. "Have I told you how much I love you lately?"

The thief set his booty on the table and started pouring drinks. "Dis better not be leadin' up to another hug."

John faked a sob. "That hurts, Rems. Why can't you ever show your true emotions? Maybe we should go to couples' therapy."

Remy slid John's drink across the table. "Just take your drink, Ozzie." After pouring his own, Remy glanced out the window. "You t'ink I let de meter on de taxi waiting outside run long enough to charge on Mags Gold Card?"

Stroking his chin, John leaned back in his chair and said, "Not quite. How about a game of Risk?"

* * *

(1) See previous story _November Rain _for more details.

(2) In _X-Men_ (second series) #10 & 11 the X-Men are forced to play out the _Wizard Of Oz_ in Mojoverse. Gambit, Psylocke, Jubilee, and Lila Chaney were all blue flying monkeys. Rogue was the Tin Man, Cyclops was the Scarecrow, Wolverine, the Cowardly Lion, Beast, Toto (all he could say was "Rrrr"), and Longshot was Dorothy.

(3) St. John has a fear of purple Peeps as revealed to Wanda in _Nine to Five_.

**A/N**: I just had a great idea for a challenge. Would anyone like to write a possible origin, reasonable or not, for St. John's fear of purple Peeps? I'm interested in what other people's ideas are. It could be a one-shot contest or something. I don't know what the prize would be for the winner, but I think it would be fun. Any takers?


	2. The Importance of a WellBalanced Diet

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_**There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Two – The Importance of a Well-Balanced Diet**

"Do Ah have a clean bill o' health yet?" Rogue asked. Even though she had regained consciousness within a few minutes of fainting, they had insisted she stay in the infirmary overnight and rest. Although she woke up extraordinarily early, she made sure she "rested" until the other students left for school. Killed two birds with one stone: Avoid the stares and whispers of other X-Men _and_ the hell-dimension called high school.

Hank McCoy tapped a pencil on his clipboard, then pointed at the tray in front of the Goth. "You haven't finished your Jello."

With slit eyes, Rogue growled, "Ah hate Jello." McCoy looked down at her through his spectacles. Taking the silent clue, Rogue sighed and threw back the virgin Jello squares. "Happy?"

The blue man smiled, exposing his fangs. "Very. You may go now, although I must warn you. The professor has been anxiously awaiting your release and wishes to speak with you as soon as you leave."

Rogue was almost out of the room before McCoy's words infiltrated her brain. Her shoulders dropped, and she turned back. "What about?"

"He didn't say. Although by his expression, he wanted to do more than lecture you on the importance of a well-balanced diet."

Rogue kicked the wall. "Figures." She scanned the room, considering her options. "Ah'd faint again if Ah didn't hate this place so much. No offense."

"None taken. You should spend more time down here as a student instead of a patient. It proves to be a much more fascinating experience."

The corner of Rogue's mouth turned up. "Ah'll take your word on that." She looked down the hallway, and tapped the door-frame. She didn't want to talk to Xavier; she didn't want to talk to anyone. How could she delay the inevitable? She glanced back into the infirmary and smiled. "How's doctor school goin'?"

McCoy smiled. "Very well. In fact the other day. . ."

Rogue leaned up against the door-frame and zoned out while Hank rambled on about all the riveting things he learned, experiments performed, and an anecdote about a patient being allergic to him. When he paused, she'd nod or ask a question about some big word he used in the last sentence.

It was twenty minutes before anyone caught onto her ulterior motive for chatting it up with Hank. "Stop stallin', Stripes. The professor's waitin'," Logan announced as he passed the room. She sighed and said goodbye to the aspiring doctor.

Every footstep to the professor's office echoed in her ears. Rogue knew she shouldn't be nervous to talk to Professor Xavier but that didn't lessen her dread. For three days no one had pried or pressured her into talking about her experience at Genesis Medical with Dr. Essex, and Rogue was eternally grateful. She also knew it wouldn't last forever. It shouldn't last forever, either. Rogue remembered the promise she made to Remy before she returned to the Institute: Warn the others about Essex and his Marauders (1).

Rogue's heart stopped. _Remy_! Was he still missing? She turned and ran to the nearest phone. She pressed the first three numbers on the hall phone before a third hand ended the connection.

"What's your problem?" she yelled.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "He's fine. You can call him _after_ you talk to the professor." He crossed his arms and took his hand off the phone cradle.

Popping her hip, Rogue glared at him. Logan's stance remained firm. When she accepted than he would not yield, she slammed the receiver down and stomped to Professor Xavier's office.

The door slammed behind her. Rogue plopped herself in a leather chair and slouched. "Let's get this over with."

The professor jumped at the noise, but otherwise feigned obliviousness to Rogue's presence. He continued making notes on whatever document he was reading.

The Goth blew a stray hair from her face sighed. Xavier still paid no attention. "Well? Ah'm here."

Xavier didn't look up. "Have you calmed down?" He turned a page.

Rogue leaned forward in her chair. "Calmed down?! Logan hung up on a very important phone call -"

The professor raised his head and closed the booklet. He pulled out a folder from his desk drawer and opened it. "As important as what happened this weekend?"

Rogue bit her lip, crossed her arms, and stared out the window.

Xavier folded his hands on his desk. "Rogue, you lied about where you were going and disappeared. When you came back, you were in an examination gown and slept until the next day. Since you've been conscious, you've avoided all the other students and any questioning about where you've been. We're all worried about your health, both emotional and physical."

"I'm fine," she growled.

"I know you've been hurt in the past, but after all your time with us, Rogue, can you still not trust us?" he asked in his ever-calm demeanor.

Rogue's face softened when she saw the hurt in his eyes. "It's not that, Professor."

"What is stopping you from telling us, Rogue?"

Her lip trembled, and she looked at her hands. "Ah..Ah don't want to disappoint ya. Ah...don't belong here, Professor. Ya've all been so nice to meh and accepted meh, but this isn't mah home. You're too good, and Ah'm trying so hard, but Ah can't. . . ."

"Living here isn't about being 'good' or 'bad', Rogue. It's a safe place for mutants to grow and learn to use their powers peacefully, so they may integrate into the human world and protect it when needs be. In order for the world to accept us, we must first learn to accept ourselves."

"That's easy for you to say," she huffed.

"I feel that we are speaking two different languages, Rogue. I think it would help me understand where you are coming from if you tell me what happened this weekend."

Rogue crossed her arms and slumped in the chair. "Whatever."

Unfazed, the professor asked, "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

She snorted and her voice cracked. "'The beginning', huh? Like how Ah got the shit end o' the mutant stick?"

The professor didn't crack a smile. "This was about your powers, then?"

"Ain't it always?"

"I'm sorry that we have not made any progressions on controlling your absorption powers, but I was under the impression that you didn't want any more private sessions -"

"Ah don't, but that doesn't mean Ah don't want ta touch people." She paused, waiting for Xavier to ask another question. He didn't. The bald man gazed at her, patiently and expectantly. She took a deep breath and told the professor about Genesis Medical and Dr. Essex.

"...The kicker was, Ah thought the whole time that Ah sought him out, but Ah came ta find out he was seekin' meh. Remy helped come up with the original recruitment strategy while he was workin' for 'im. When Essex get curious 'bout your powers, he sends ya a magazine he makes up. Then he has a 'chance meetin' with one of his employees to push the program and make ya think it's safe. Most everyone falls for it."

"Rogue, I still don't understand why you couldn't have come to us when you were first looking into the program. I have connections. We could have done background checks -"

"Ah know!" Rogue yelled, then looked at her hands. "Ah was stupid. Ah just. . . Ah couldn't come ta ya. There was a chance he could only take away mah powers, and Ah didn't want ya ta look at meh differently."

"You would always be welcome here."

"Ya still don't get it! Ya accepted meh for who Ah was, but Ah didn't get it. Ah wanted a normal life so bad that Ah didn't even glance at the consequences. Ah didn't want ta see them. If Ah told someone, Ah knew they'd ask questions Ah didn't want ta answer. At the last minute Ah asked them mahself, but by then Ah was in too deep, and Essex wasn't gonna let meh go."

"How do you feel about yourself now?"

She shrugged. "Okay, Ah guess. Ah still want ta touch people, but Ah feel better 'bout not bein' able to."

The professor nodded and scribbled some notes. "Why's that?"

"Why's what? Ah said Ah like myself, and ya want more? Ah figured you'd be jumpin' for joy at that revelation."

Professor Xavier smiled. "I'm a psychiatrist. It's my job to ask the hard questions. Especially when I think you are ready to answer them."

Rogue snorted. "What makes ya think Ah'm ready for it?"

"Call it a hunch."

"That's not very scientific o' ya."

"Some things can't or shouldn't be approached with a scientific eye."

"Like fixin' mutant powers?"

"I didn't say that. My personal belief is that one should master his or her powers with knowledge, practice, and dedication, but if you wish to seek a scientific remedy to your powers, I'll support your decision. I am not disappointed that you made the decision to alter your DNA to control your powers, only that you did not make an educated decision using all the resources at your disposal, mainly myself and the other X-Men."

Rogue blinked hard. "Wow, Professor. That was a roundabout way to tell meh Ah was stupid."

Xavier sighed and shook his head. "Please stop putting words in my mouth, Rogue. And don't think that you've distracted me from my original question."

She crossed her arms and looked out the window. "Maybe your hunch was wrong, and Ah'm not ready ta answer it."

The professor scribbled a few more things down. "That's your prerogative, but don't think I won't stop asking. I do have more questions about your experience with Genesis Medical, if you don't mind."

Thankful for the change in subject, Rogue replied, "Shoot."

"Do you believe any of the other X-Men might be targeted by Dr. Essex?"

The question took Rogue by surprise. She hadn't thought about Essex having other targets at the school. "Uh, well, both Jean and Scott got magazines. Ah don't know if any of Essex's employees approached them yet."

"I would like to warn everyone else in the mansion that these predators may be about. If I called a meeting this evening, would you mind sharing your experience and -"

Rogue's face blanched. "No! Ah don't want to get in front of everybody." She looked at her hands and mumbled, "Can't _you_ tell everybody?"

Sensing her anxiety, the professor yielded. "I could relay the information to them, but it won't be the same coming from me."

"That's fine with meh."

"Rogue, you can't hide from them forever."

"Ah know!" she said. "Ah'm not 'hiding forever'. Ah just don't want ta have ta spill all this over again."

"Very well," he said in a reluctant tone. "You'll have to tell me about each employee and their powers. How many did you meet?"

"Ah don't know. Five? Six? And Ah touched Arclight, so..." Rogue's throat tightened (2). To warn the X-Men about _all_ of Essex's employees, she'd have to dive into Arclight's memories. Those dark, violent memories full of hatred. That was one psyche in her mind she never wanted to pull to the forefront ever again. She had used Arclight's psyche to fuel her to try and kill Essex, allowed Arclight's hatred and thirst for violence to taint her. She would have killed Essex that night. She could almost _feel_ Arclight's strength flowing through her again.

Xavier's voice filtered through her thoughts. "Rogue, you are projecting some very strong and troubling emotions. Is something wrong?"

"Ah... Ah can't tell ya 'bout all of them. Ah can tell ya 'bout the ones Ah met...and the ones Remy told meh about..."

"Are there more?" When Rogue didn't look up, Xavier's voice was firm. "In order to protect the others, we must give them all the information we can. We can't let anyone else be tricked by them."

"I know!" Rogue's breathing became shallow. "Ah...Ah can't deal with the memories. Not yet."

Xavier's eyes narrowed. "That's not all, is it?"

The Goth raised her head. How could she tell the professor that she tried to kill a man? That when she called up Arclight's psyche, not only was she bombarded with savage memories, but with what she had allowed herself to act and feel when she absorbed them? A few minutes ago she said that she liked herself. How could she like something that could turn so ugly? How could they?

"Can't we work with what we have without pullin' her up?" she pleaded.

"By doing so, we may be putting the others in unnecessary danger."

"Give meh a week, that's all Ah ask. Please. Haven't Ah spilled enough out today?" Xavier was not happy, but he agreed. Rogue told him what she knew of Malice, Leash, Wisdom, Arclight, Kim Il Sung, and Dr. Novak. Thanks to Remy, she also knew of Kim Il Sung's, aka Scrambler's, and Dr. Novak's, aka Vertigo's, powers along with along with one she didn't meet: Gorgeous George. Leash was new to the Marauders since Remy's reign, and Rogue wondered how many other people she'd seen at Genesis Medical that were a part of Essex's special team (3).

It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Rogue stood up to leave. She left a warm impression in the chair.

Xavier flipped through a red leather planner. "How's next Monday after school sound?"

Confused, Rogue raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Our next session. On the agenda is revisiting Arclight's memories and your self-acceptance."

"That's less than a week." Xavier gave her an authoritative stare. Eventually Rogue grumbled, "Fine."

"And I would like Hank and myself to take a look at that file Remy stole from Dr. Essex."

"Sure."

"Now, tonight, I would like all the X-Men and the new recruits to meet in the library after dinner to talk about Genesis Medical. Will you spread the word?" Knowing she couldn't get out of it if she tried, Rogue reluctantly nodded.

As Rogue's hand touched the doorknob, Xavier added one more thing. "Rogue, we don't have to wait until Monday if you want to talk. If you feel you are ready before then, you know where to find me. I'd like to inform the others as soon as possible about -"

Instead of letting him finish, Rogue opened the door and said, "See ya Monday, Professor."

* * *

Hidden underneath a pile of blankets and a comforter, Rogue's head and hand peeked out. "Hey," she called into the phone she held in her hand.

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice and know you're okay... You're okay, non?" Remy greeted.

Rogue mentally kicked herself for being so stupid for the millionth time that day.

"Yeah, Ah hadn't really eaten since the mornin' Ah went to Genesis, so Ah kinda fainted."

Remy breathed a sigh of relief. "I was worried it was somet'ing Essex did to you."

"Nope. Ah was worried Essex had come ta take ya back."

"Non. It was another psycho named Mesmero."

"Mesmero? The telepath who gets other people ta do his dirty work for 'im?"

"One and de same. Magneto captured him when he found us at stealin' half o' some piece of junk or another."

"What's he plan on doin' with 'im?"

"I t'ought we weren' gonna talk 'bout work."

"Ya're right. Sorry. Ah was just curious."

"Dead cat (4)."

Rogue chuckled. It was comforting to talk to Remy again. She felt like herself again. "Not yet, though Essex's file on meh did mention this nasty poison stuff a couple times. Ah think he wanted meh to build up an immunity to it."

Remy didn't breathe. "What? What was it?"

"Ah don't quite remember. It was from Australia, I think. . . iocane powder, maybe (5)?" Rogue smiled.

Remy did not. "Dat's not funny. Don' joke 'bout dat."

"Lighten up. We're both okay."

"For now. You don' know Essex like I do."

"_Ya said_ he wouldn't bother meh here at the Institute," Rogue growled.

"Probably not. Essex isn' one to make a mess unless it's absolutely necessary, and attackin' de X-Men or Magneto would make a big mess. He might damage or lose some of his precious Marauders."

"So he'll find another way ta get at us?"

"At you, oui. Don' let your guard down when you're out. Make sure you have some X-Men or someone around at all times."

"Sounds like fun."

"The alternative is worse." Remy paused. "I don' know what I'd do if he got to you again."

"What 'bout you? Who's your babysitter?"

"Don' need one. Essex doesn' want me anymore."

Instantly troubled, Rogue sat up in bed. "But what if he takes ya ta get ta meh? We didn't exactly hide our relationship while we were there."

"I don' t'ink -"

"But _Ah_ do. Don't be stupid and think just 'cause Ah'm Essex's dream mutant that he won't come after ya, at the very least ta get ta meh. Ah'd come after ya just like ya came after meh."

"Non! If he comes after meh, don' follow, Rogue. Don't."

She snorted. "Fat chance."

"I'm serious."

"So am Ah! We're in this together now."

Rogue practically heard a vein in Remy's forehead pop. Eventually, he sighed and spoke, "I don' want to argue 'bout dis over de phone."

"Fine, come over."

"Can't. I promised John-boy I'd cover for him while he snuck out to the Brotherhood. Right now we are 'training', but it sounds an awful lot like a Rocky movie."

"Ah wondered what the 'Eye of the Tiger' music was about. He and Wanda back together again?"

Remy sighed. "No, and it's a long and painful story."

Rogue looked at the clock. The other X-Men were ten minutes into the meeting about Essex and the Marauders. "Let's hear it then. I got some time." Remy told her what he learned from the drunken John the night before.

At the finale of jousting purple peeps, all Rogue could think to say was, "That is a mess."

"And Wanda accused me of makin' a mess out of relationships."

"Ya do." Remy didn't reply. Thinking that he was hurt by her comment, she added, "Ah think they're inherently messy."

The door to Rogue's room slammed. Kitty stood at the end of Rogue's bed with a red face and her hands on her hips. Kitty didn't have to say a word for Rogue to get the message. "Uh, Remy, Ah gotta go. Can we meet up tomorrow?"

"Petey's comin' back tomorrow night, but we could do somet'ing durin' de day."

"School."

Remy chuckled at her plight. "Sorry, I'm glad I'm done wit' school. Can you skip?"

"While Ah'm dancin' on slippery rocks with the professor? Ah don't think so."

"Right. Meet you at lunch?"

"See ya then."

The phone had barely settled on the receiver when Kitty nailed Rogue. "What is wrong with you?! You lie, _to me_, and then I have to find out what it's all about from the _professor_. And what is up with this?" Kitty shoved a crumpled sheet of paper in her face. "You, like, tape a note to the front door about your meeting. You couldn't even tell me in person what's going on! I can't even believe I expected you to show up for it. You didn't even, like, come to dinner before."

"It wasn't mah meetin'."

"The professor talked a lot about you for it not to be your meeting."

Paranoid, Rogue couldn't help asking, "What'd he say?"

Kitty huffed and plopped down on her bed, facing away from the Goth. "If you wanted to know, I guess you should have come."

"Lay off, Kit."

Her head whipped around with glaring eyes. "Why should I?"

At first, Rogue was angry with her friend, but then guilt set in. She sunk down under her covers and avoided eye contact. "No reason Ah can think of," she whispered. She knew this would happen when the X-Men found out. They let her into their lives, shared their mutant hopes and troubles with her, and she slammed the door in their faces. Ororo was wrong; they'd never forgive her. She should have left with Remy. Ran away from everything. How _did_ he convince her to stay? Stupid, charming Cajun. Rogue laid down and turned toward the wall, pulling her comforter tight.

An instant later, the comforter passed through her. She flipped over to find Kitty standing over her with the blanket in her hands. "I'm not done talking to you!"

"Well, Ah'm done listenin'!" Rogue snapped. She tried to yank the comforter back, but her hands fell through it, and she fell off the bed. In retaliation, Rogue crouched and swung her leg, knocking Kitty's out from under her. While Kitty was down, Rogue managed to steal her comforter back.

Surprised, Kitty gazed up at the triumphant Rogue. "I'm not your enemy, Rogue! Why are you fighting me?" Angry tears welled up in Kitty's eyes.

Before they came down, Rogue disappeared out of the room. She couldn't handle the crying, and she couldn't answer the question. Kitty hadn't done anything to her but be her friend. And what did Rogue do? Disregard every offer of help, lie, and freak out when the truth was thrown back at her. Some friend she was. More than ever, Rogue felt she didn't belong anymore.

Kitty searched for her, but never found Rogue curled up in her blanket on the porch roof. She wanted to go to Remy's but knew he'd be pissed if she left the mansion alone. Clutching the edges of her comforter, Rogue waited for it to snow and complete her horrible night. Out of the corners of her eyes, she watched the lights of the mansion go dark one by one. Hers and Kitty was the last.

Feeling she had waited long enough for her roommate to fall asleep, Rogue slipped back into her room. When the door closed, the lamp flipped on, showing Kitty's tear-stained face. "You're a bitch." She turned off the light and faced the wall. "Don't disappear again."

Again speechless, Rogue walked to her bed and laid down for a sleepless night.

* * *

It was still early evening when St. John knocked on the door to the crumbling house. Brushing the ash from his shirt, he tried to make himself look more presentable. As the doorknob jingled, he realized he had half a cigarette hanging from his mouth. John swore, extinguished the embers and slipped the fag behind his ear before the door fully opened.

St. John greeted Lance with a cheesy fake smile. Lance took one look at him and threw the door shut. The rarely used locks clicked.

Banging on the door, John yelled, "Let me in! I need to talk to her!"

"She doesn't want to talk to you," Lance called through the door.

"How do you know? On the phone you said she hadn't talked to anybody."

"That's exactly how, you moron."

"It's not healthy." John paused and pulled out his lighter. "You really think a couple locks can stop me -"

A gust of wind blew the cigarette from behind John's ear and pushed him off the porch. "Since when do you care about what's best for her health?" Pietro hissed.

"Since always."

When the banging ceased, Lance unlocked the door and stood on the porch behind Pietro. The speed demon laughed. "Really? Now that's funny. I could have sworn you didn't after you found out she could go into a coma if you hung out with her, and yet you continued to do so with the lovesick hope that she'd remember you one day. But I guess since you've 'always' cared about what's best for her, that must have been your evil twin."

"The only evil twin here is you."

Pietro feigned insult. "Oh, what a comeback. That hurt me right here." Pietro pointed to the left side of his chest.

"In your third nipple?"

Lance snickered, and Pietro whipped his head around for a quick death glare. John took the opportunity to bound up and push his way past the Brotherhood boys. Pietro managed to grab the back of John's shirt and whip him around, throwing John into the bushes.

"The best thing you can do for Wanda is leave and never come back. What will it take for you to get it through your head that it'll never work? Geez, you're like herpes. You keep coming back and pissing people off."

"You'd know all about that," Lance mumbled.

John stood up and stood nose-to-nose with Pietro. "And leave her to be yanked around and lied to by her 'family'. Like hell!"

"I won't let anything happen to her again."

Stepping back and crossing his arms, John snorted. "'Cause you did so much the first time."

"At least I didn't lead her to Magneto and Mastermind like Reese's Pieces for an alien (6)."

Gritting his teeth, John slipped his lighter from his pocket. A fireball shot between Lance and Pietro. They launched themselves in opposite directions, leaving a clear path into the house for John. He made it all the way to the top of the stairwell when his face met a very squishy wall. John bounced off and tumbled down the stairs, knocking Lance off his feet on the way down.

Pietro zoomed up and over the boys to Fred. He slapped him on the back. "Good work, Blob."

"What? I was going downstairs to make a snack." Pointing to John, the confused Fred continued, "What is he doing here? Did you call him to try and get Wanda out of bed?"

"He's here to be a pain in my ass. And he's not getting near Wanda or her bed. Isn't it a little late for a snack? You'll ruin your dinner."

"But Pietro -"

"No buts. No snacks. Either start dinner or wait," ordered Den Leader Pietro.

"But it's not my turn..." Fred whined.

"Then wait."

"But -"

Pietro caught John moving out of the corner of his eye. Scratching his chin, Pietro reconsidered Fred's requested. "I guess you can have a snack, but only if you escort Love Puppy off the premises."

"Who?"

Pietro pointed animately at John. "Pyro!"

Fred held up his hands defensively and backed down the stairs that groaned with each step. "Okay."

St. John tried to ignore all his newfound bruises and escape, but Lance held him down until Fred could get a good grip. Freddy walked to the doorway holding John in a bear hug. When he got there, he turned around, confused. "Where was I supposed to take him?"

Pietro let out an exasperated sigh. "Away! Far, far, away! Another galaxy preferably."

"But if I take him far away, it'll be after dinner time when I get back."

"Go!" Pietro ran out of the room, sick of dealing with his underlings.

Lance nudged Fred as he left. "Drop him off at his bike and make sure he leaves."

Freddy smiled. "Thanks, Lance."

Outside Fred dropped St. John on the sidewalk next to Piotr's motorcycle. "Time to go."

St. John winced as he stood and rubbed his bum. He glanced at the bike, then at Freddy and smiled. John put his arm as far as he could around the big guy and gestured for him to bend down. "Listen, mate. If you can help me sneak into Wanda's room, I'll make it worth your while."

Fred raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I'll bring you a pizza or something, and you look the other way while I go upstairs and talk to Wanda."

Fred thought a moment, then shook his head. "No, I'd get in trouble."

"Only if they find out." He added a wink.

Freddy shook his head again. "No. Both Pietro _and_ Lance think it's a bad idea for you to see Wanda. I can't help you, sorry."

St. John shrugged, sighed, and slapped Fred on the back. "Good bloke. Can't fault you, but I'm not gonna give up either." John walked to Piotr's bike and straddled it. With a helmet in his hands, he said, "I'm gonna go now, so Pietro doesn't chuck a spaz at you, but I'll be back later."

Fred waved, then asked, "Are you still gonna bring me a pizza?"

John laughed. It felt good. He hadn't laughed while sober for a few days now. "For that, mate, I will."

* * *

Later that night the boys sat around the television trying to make out the people in the snowy picture. The sound came out perfectly aside from a periodic clicking in the background.

Lance leaned toward the TV and again missed the line because of the clicking. "Toad, go mess with the antennae until that clicking noise goes away."

Todd prepped a leap for the TV when Pietro ordered, "Don't touch the TV."

Todd backed down; Lance growled and shook the room. "You know, Pietro, I've had just about enough of you."

"I know it's tough to live in the shadow of my cleverness and inherent beauty, but I figured you'd be used to it by now. I guess you really are slower than Blob. I have too much virtue to pretend I'm a dumb ass like you and think that noise is coming from the TV."

"If it's not coming from the TV, where's it coming from?"

Not moving from his comfortable position with his legs hanging over the arm of the old Lazy-boy, Pietro replied, "Pyro's outside throwing rocks at Wanda's window."

Lance rocketed out of his chair. "What?! Why aren't we doing anything about it?"

The speed demon examined his nails. "Because, genius, if I let this play out, he won't come back."

Another stone hit the upstairs window. Lance looked out the window, then back at Pietro. "We are talking about the same Pyro, right?"

Pietro rolled his eyes. "Do I have to spell out everything for you losers? Let's play out the scenarios: One, Wanda gets annoyed and hexes him to death. Pyro's dead, problem solved. Two, Wanda continues to ignore him like she has for the last half-hour and he'll finally realize that we weren't the only ones that don't want to see his ugly mug. Love Puppy'll trot home with his tail between his legs. Personally, I prefer scenario number one, but I'm not too picky tonight."

"You're forgetting what happens if she comes to the window."

"She won't," he said with certainty. "I haven't seen her go to the bathroom in two days. She's not going to get up for him."

"How do you know?"

"I know my sister. She hates him more than we do now. I don't know why, but she does, and that's all that matters."

Lance shifted his eyes and shut up for the rest of the night. He hoped that Pietro was right, but he knew that what Wanda felt for John was far from hate.

* * *

A large shadow fell over St. John as he winded up to pitch another rock. He looked up to see Freddy towering over him.

Fred looked sheepishly at his hands. "Uh, did you bring that pizza like you said you would?"

John smiled and dropped his arm. He kneeled next to a bush and pulled out a flat square cardboard box. "Here ya go. It's kinda cold now."

Fred took the box with greedy hands. "That's okay. I like cold pizza too."

John took a drag and left the cigarette hang between his lips while he tossed another pebble at the window. Freddy opened the box and took out a slice. After taking a bite, he asked, "How long are you gonna do this for?"

John pulled another stone from his pocket. "Until she comes out or my cover at the base is blown."

Freddy ate and watched John throw more stones at the window. When John's pocket was empty, Freddy took a break from his pizza. "Pietro says she'll never come to the window 'cause she hates you more than he does."

"Well, since Pietro's gonads do most the thinking for him, his real brains are a bit rusty." John inhaled and used the flame from his cigarette to shine a light on the ground. The Aussie began refilling his pockets.

"I liked a girl once. Her friends didn't like me very much and attacked me when I took her out on a date."

"Bummer. What'd she do?" John replied without interest.

"She attacked me too." Freddy sighed and took another bite. "She's mean but can be very nice, and she's pretty."

John screwed up his face in confusion. Why he was making excuses for the girl? "That doesn't make it okay for her to attack you. Why did she attack you?"

Freddy shrugged. "She's an X-Man."

"Which one?"

"Jean."

John couldn't help but laugh at the image of the redhead and Freddy together. "Mate, she's not much of a catch. You deserve much better than that."

A few more rocks hit the window. From the puzzled look on Fred's face, John could tell he was thinking hard before he asked, "Do you think if I throw rocks at her window that she'd come out?"

The Aussie sneered. "Jean Grey? Why would you want her too? I bet she has horrible bedhead and wears those green mask things to bed."

"She's nice and pretty."

Finishing up his cigarette, John pulled a pack from his pocket. "You said that already. You also said she was mean, and let me tell you, mean is only the beginning. Add uptight and motherly to the list. She also attacked you on your date."

"But Wanda hexes and hits you all the time."

After lighting another cig, John resumed throwing. "Wanda and I are different."

"How?"

Pausing, John took the cigarette out of his mouth and snubbed out some stray ash. "Well, we...when...we just are, okay!"

"Okay, geez, I was only asking." Freddy stood up with an empty box. "I'm going to go inside. It's getting cold."

"Wait." John took a step closer to Fred and whispered, "Is Wanda really up in her room?" Fred nodded and left.

John examined the stone in his hand. Were he and Wanda finally over and he just wasn't getting the picture? When was enough enough? The Aussie tossed the stone in the air, caught it, and chucked it at the window. He frantically dug into his pockets and continued throwing them, several at a time. He didn't stop until his phone beeped with a text message. Grumbling, John texted back.

Before getting on Piotr's bike, he took one last look at Wanda's window. Something flickered beyond the curtain. John's eyes remained glued to the window, hunting for another movement. After a few minutes he wrote it off as a figment of his overactive imagination and rode away.

* * *

(1) Kinda happened between the lines in _November Rain_: Chapter 29 – Love Makes People Stupid

(2) Rogue touched Arclight and tried to beat Dr. Essex to death with a table leg in _November Rain_: Chapter 28 – Ah Can't Run Away.

(3) To the reader, the following Marauders have been revealed, all cannon comic book characters, although not all are have worked for Essex in the comics: Malice (in the bodies of Diamonda LaSalle/Sham, Jean-Paul Beaubier/Northstar, and short stints in Scott/Cyclops and Lance/Avalanche), Scrambler/Kim Il Sung, Pete Wisdom, Vertigo who I named Dr. Kim Novak, Arclight, Gorgeous George, Leash, and Prism (he came on to Scott in _November Rain_: Chapter 13). There were two other Marauders that Remy killed: Scalphunter and Blockbuster. There will be more -weg-.

(4) The "dead cat" joke (curiosity killed the cat) is from all the way back in_ Nine to Five_: Chapter 18 – I'm A Dead Cat, Too.

(5) Reference to the greatest movie on the planet: _The Princess Bride_, and to my favorite scene: the battle of wits. I love Vincini!

(6) Allusion to the classic _E.T_. Fun fact: They originally wanted to use M&M's but the company refused. So they found another similar looking, much lesser known candy: Reese's Pieces. Now don't those M&M people feel stupid.

* * *

**Next Up:** Where's Wanda? I'll give you a hint, she's not out traveling the world in a red and white striped shirt. And Piotr returns!


	3. Play Nice, You Two

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

**_There is a Light that Never Goes O__ut_: Chapter Three – Play Nice You Two**

A soft knock came at the door. For the first time in hours, Wanda moved. She looked at the clock: 11:21 AM. She turned back over and ignored the person calling her name. The door opened, and footsteps approached the bed. Wanda didn't bother to hex the intruder.

Lance said her name again and walked to her bed. "I brought up some cereal and orange juice." She heard a plastic bowl slide across her nightstand and a glass jar set down next to it. "The milk might be bad, but, since you probably won't eat anyway, it doesn't matter." He took one step to leave, then hesitated. Wanda prayed to hear footsteps shuffle away, but her prayers weren't answered.

Instead her bed squeaked, and Wanda had to shift her weight to avoid rolling. A hand touched her shoulder, but she made no reaction.

"You really should get out of bed." Wanda gave no response. "Pietro's going to steal a turkey for Fred to cook for dinner." She continued to stare at the wall. Lance slammed his fist on the bed. "Dammit, Wanda, say something! I don't think you've said anything since we got back from Florida. The only time you left your room was to visit your migraine doctor and fill your prescription! Have you even been taking it?" (1)

She had. At first she refused. Why bother to get well when she had no intentions of getting out of bed? Her migraines usually went away after a while, but this time they hadn't. After a few hours of building pressure and pounding in her head, she surrendered and started taking the pills. It was the only thing that brought her out of bed.

Wanda's unused voice was dry and harsh. "Go. Away."

"Why are you the one up here moping? You broke up with him. Kitty was out and dating Tin Can in less than a week of dumping me (2)." Wanda didn't take the effort of pointing out the obvious faults with his logic, like the fact that she wasn't Kitty. Lance sighed. "You at least need to eat. I'll get you whatever you want as long as you eat something." He paused. "What do you want? Pizza, ice cream, chocolate shake?" He paused again, but she didn't reply. Food only made her feel emptier inside. "Fine," Lance spat. The house shook and the bed squeaked.

When Lance was halfway through the doorway, Wanda croaked, "How is he?"

Lance sighed, took a step inside, and shut the door. "You'd know if you'd take one of his calls and didn't leave me to fend him off."

"I never asked you to," she barked.

"Fine. I'll stop and you can ask him how he is next time he calls."

Wanda shot up. "No!" She pulled her knees to her chest and her covers to her chin. "Tell me how he looked." She paused and whispered, "Please."

Angry and disappointed that Wanda couldn't take her mind off the Aussie, he snapped, "Like he always looks: Like an idiot."

She met his eyes with a look that wasn't angry or annoyed, but yearning. After a few seconds, her legs and arms fell; she turned over and stared at the wall.

Feeling it was pointless to try and converse with her more, Lance opened the door and left. With a centimeter between the door and the frame, the door shot back open and the earth shaker's head popped back in. "Seriously, you need some help."

Wanda whipped her head around and glared. "I tried to ask you, and you refused."

"No, professional help. Like Xavier."

Wanda bounced a little and turned back to the wall "Yeah, Dad'll love that."

"Fuck Magneto!" Lance slammed the door. Wanda stared at the closed door, wondering what had fueled Lance's outburst.

* * *

It was one of the two times of the day when the students greeted the bell with unanimous delight. The halls of Bayville High filled with students following their noses to the unpleasant odor of cafeteria food. Rogue broke off from the rest of the pact and headed outside. The wind was brisk. Rogue zipped up the rest of her jacket and tucked her hands in her pockets. She searched the grounds and the parking lot, but only saw a few students getting things from their cars or leaving for a class at Bayville University.

Frustrated and disappointed, Rogue turned the corner of the building. A hand reached out and covered her mouth, pulling her into a line of trees. Rogue stomped on her attacker's foot and elbowed him in the stomach. She whipped around with her fist held high to face the figure bent over in pain. "Remy!" As Rogue lowered her arm, she could have sworn she saw a bone retracting underneath her skin.

Still bent over, Remy snapped, "What? Did you t'ink I was kidnappin' you or somethin'?"

Rogue lost all sympathy and forgot about her hand. She stood up straight and put her hand on her hip. "Ah do have a mad scientist after meh."

Lifting his head, Rogue saw the regret in Remy's eyes. "Point taken. I guess surprisin' you wasn' de best idea I ever had." He straightened up and looked around. "Hey, where's your babysitter?"

With her attitude on full blast, Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Where's yours?"

"I told you I don' need one."

"If ya don't need one, Ah don't need one."

Remy scowled. "Sinister's after you, not me."

"And that makes ya a target!"

"Who did you want me to bring?"

"What's wrong with John?" asked Rogue. Remy replied with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, why couldn't John come with ya?"

"Who do you t'ink's coverin' for me while I sneak off to have lunch wit' you?"

"Oh. What about..." Rogue looked up in thought, then declared, "You need more friends, swamp rat."

The Cajun snorted. "What 'bout you? You've got a huge house full o' people you could ask to watch your back. What's your excuse?"

Dropping her arm, Rogue sighed and mumbled, "No one'll talk ta meh."

"What? Why?"

Rogue sighed and sat cross-legged on the grass. She talked to the paper sack she pulled from her backpack. "It's just like Ah thought it'd be when they found out. Ah don't blame them."

Remy sat across from her and put his hand on her knee. "I'm sorry." He knew what it was like to rejected, but he also knew a little of nature of the X-Men. "I can't believe _no one_ will talk to you. What about Kitty?"

Rogue avoided his eyes and nibbled on her sandwich. "She called meh a bitch."

He gave Rogue a half-smile. "Then she has been talking to you."

Rogue whipped her head around and glared. "More like yellin' and fightin'."

Remy's imagination peaked. "Fightin'? Like fist fightin' or arguin'? Or mudwrestlin'?"

Rogue's forehead wrinkled in wonder. "What is your obsession with women mudwrestling?"

He smirked. "It's dirty." The goth rolled her eyes. "You could even do it wit' your clothes on," he added.

Popping another piece of sandwich in her mouth, Rogue turned up her nose. "Don't hold your breath."

"So, for our one-year anniversary then?"

"Ya think we'll survive a year?" Rogue didn't realize the gravity of what she said until Remy slid away from her and started picking at the dead grass. "Ah didn't mean -"

The Cajun held up his hand. "I know you didn'." His head shot up, in a second he was on his feet with a charged card, ready to strike. Rogue glanced around, but didn't see anything. She opened her mouth to ask Remy what was going on, but he silenced her with a look. She inhaled deeply and tensed at two familiar scents approaching.

"I saw her come around here. . . " Scott and Amara appeared around the corner. Remy sighed and dropped his arm. Remy's relief didn't last long.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Scott spat.

After dropping her sandwich in her bag, Rogue stood up between them. "Ah asked him ta come for lunch."

Eyeing the Cajun the whole time, Scott spoke through clenched teeth, "Rogue, I need to talk to you." He grabbed her by the arm and walked out of earshot.

When he stopped, Rogue planted her feet and crossed her arms. "What's your problem, Scott?"

"What's _my_ problem? Amara comes running up to me in the lunchroom, because she saw someone grab you while she was getting her coat out of the car, and you ask me what my problem is?"

The anger drained from Rogue's face. "Ah didn't mean ta scare anybody. Ah wasn't too happy he surprised meh like that either."

Scott looked her straight in the eye. "I know you like your independence, but there comes a point when it becomes stupidity. You were kidnapped by a crazy geneticist with a crew of psycho mutants at his beck and call. You can't run around like nothing bad can ever happen to you. Malice already infiltrated the mansion's defenses once -" (3)

Her face wrinkled in confusion. "Malice was never at the mansion. She was here and at the coffee shop, but -"

Scott shook his head. "Amara and I think it was Malice that possessed us a couple weeks back. Malice was the one that blasted the professor. She got into Cerebro."

Rogue blanched. The dangers Remy had been insisting upon became real. Malice had already made it into the Institute and out again without getting caught. Who knew what the other Marauders are capable of? Everyone was in danger. She resolved to go to Professor Xavier the instant she got back to pick apart Arclight's memories. He was right; the longer she waited, the greater the chance for an attack.

Rogue's reply was sincere. "Ah'm sorry Ah scared ya. From now on, Ah'll be more careful."

"It's not just that, Rogue." He took her by the hand. "We used to be friends. We used to tell each other things. What's going on? What is he doing to you?" Scott nodded toward Remy.

Rogue's face went from white to red. "He's not doin' anythin' ta meh!"

"None of this started until he showed up," he pointed out.

She yanked her hand from his. Rogue's voice was icy. "Thanks for makin' sure Ah'm all right. Ya can go back ta your lunch now." Scott hesitated but soon gave up and skulked back to the cafeteria.

* * *

Remy watched Scott and Rogue with interested. He hoped the wind would blow a word or two his way, but instead was greeted with black hair in his face.

"Hello, how are you?" Amara chirped.

Remy glanced down for a second. "Fine."

Amara continued, much to Remy's chagrin, "Sorry about bringing Scott over. If I knew it was you with Rogue, I wouldn't have said anything. With everything that's happened lately I freaked out. "

He didn't even bother looking down at her when he replied. "Dat's okay, petite."

"When Rogue first got back, I was dying to find out what had happened, but when the professor told us last night . . . It's got me all paranoid that people could be after us now."

"Uh, huh," Remy replied, uninterested. It took him a few seconds to register what Amara said. He interrupted her small talk. "Hold up. The _professor_ told you what happened?" Amara nodded. "Where was Rogue?"

"Held up in her room. Kitty was fuming when she left. I was expecting a full drawn-out argument, but Kitty yelled at her a couple times and Rogue ran out of the room and hid for the rest of the night."

"Has Rogue talked to anybody since she came back?"

"Only the adults I think." Amara paused to think, then added, "And Pyro when he came over." A disappointed look flashed across her face. "I was at school. How is John?" Amara's eyes glittered, and she smiled.

Remy took no notice to Amara's excitement. "Miserable. So Rogue's been Emily Dickinsoning it since Sunday?"

The question confused Amara, but she answered, "I don't think she's written any poetry. I thought she liked drawing, not writing. John likes writing, I know that."

Remy saw Scott and Rogue's conversation get heated. Before he could interrupt, Scott had stomped off. "You okay, chere?"

"Peachy," the goth huffed.

Without taking his eyes off Rogue, Remy ushered Amara away. "You mind givin' us some privacy, petite?"

Amara smiled and winked. "Of course not." She giggled and disappeared into the school.

The two walked back to Rogue's bookbag. Remy nodded toward the school. "What was dat about?"

"Amara? She watches too many chick flicks and finds this the most romantic thin' ever." Rogue fluttered her eyelashes mockingly.

"I figured dat out. What was up Summer's ass dis time?"

She stopped and looked at the ground. "Actually, ya have a lot in common. Ya both think Ah can't take care of myself."

Remy reached to console her, but she stepped away. "Rogue -"

"Shut up." Rogue sat down by her lunch. "Ah know you're right. Ah need ta get a babysitter."

"A friend to watch your back," Remy corrected.

"Close enough."

"Except you have to pay a babysitter. I hope you have enough friends to keep you safe for free."

"Don't count on it. Ya saw how Scott was."

"Really? 'Cause he looked exactly like a concerned friend to me."

Rogue played with the zipper on her bag. "Ah told ya that no one's been talkin' ta meh."

"But have you given t'em a chance? Accordin' to Amara, you've been Hermit Girl all week."

Rogue turned her head up. "Ah thought I was Squirrel Girl (4)?"

Remy sat down shoulder to shoulder with Rogue, her eyes followed him. "How do you expect t'em to forgive you if you never see them?"

"They can come find meh. It's not like we live in a Spanish horror movie with hidden rooms for deformed orphans (5)."

"You want to be friends wit' t'em again, den you have to make de effort. Put yourself in t'eir shoes. Dey might be t'inkin' de same t'ing you're t'inkin'."

"Oh, really? Ah don't see ya makin' an effort with your brother (4)."

Remy's mouth tightened, and he stood up. "Dat was a low blow, chere."

Rogue jumped up and grabbed Remy's coat to keep him from disappearing. "Ah'm sorry, Remy. Ah know it's different. It's hard for meh ta be around them 'cause Ah don' know if they'll ever understand meh like ya do."

"Dat's de great t'ing 'bout friends: Dey may not understand everyt'ing, but dey know enough to know when you need dem. Why do you t'ink dey've all been yellin' at you?"

"They're pissed."

"Oui, but de are also worryin' bout you. Dey don' want you abducted again, and I gotta like t'em for dat. . . even Stick Up His Butt." He smiled and Rogue returned the favor. They talked about approaching Kitty or Kurt to go with Rogue to visit Wanda after school and strategies for approaching the other X-Men. They decided to both go to the Descanso Rivets concert on Friday since practically the entire Institute was going, not to mention Kitty and Jamie's "big date" (7).

"What 'bout your sitter?" asked Rogue as she threw her trash in her lunch sack.

Remy sighed. He didn't want to deal with it, but Rogue made him promise. "Well, Petey's coming back tonight."

"Ya said last night. Wait a minute… Ah thought he wasn't comin' back 'til next week."

"Boss wanted Mastermind back here to deal wit' Mesmero."

"Petey had better shower Kitty with gifts, then."

Remy stood up and held out his hand to help Rogue. "She's that materialistic?"

She took his hand. "No, but she hasn't heard from him since he left. He's got negative points in the books now."

"That don' sound like Petey. I'm sure he had good reason. He's crazy 'bout dat girl."

Rogue hefted her bookbag over her shoulder. "That don't mean he knows how ta treat her ri-"

Remy put his finger to her lips, and backed up to the building. With charged card raised, he almost blew up Principal Kelly.

"What are you two doing back here? Ah, 'The Rogue'. Why am I not surprised? Bayville High has a closed campus lunch policy, you know that."

"Ah never left -"

The principal pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. "That's a punishable offense. Detentions for both of you." Kelly adjusted his spectacles to better identify Remy. "I don't recall your face on the roster."

"I was sick on picture day," Remy lied.

Kelly gasped. "Those eyes. You're a mutant! Another one of those troublemakers living at Xavier's, eh?"

Remy was about to correct him when he received an elbow in the stomach from Rogue. "Yeah," she said. "He's Taylor Kitsch (6), new transfer. What of it?"

Kelly ground his teeth. "Just for the glib, you both get two detentions." He scribbled on pieces of paper and handed out. "Now, get inside and go to class."

Remy's eyes burned, but Rogue grabbed his hand and pulled him inside before there could be an incident. "Ah don' need ta get inta anymore trouble today. We might not get ta make fun of people at the concert Friday if Ah get another detention," she hissed.

The Cajun sighed, then smiled at their still interlocking hands. "What?" Rogue asked. Remy held their hands up for her to see. She rolled her eyes and shoved him away. "Call me tomorrow, _Taylor_."

* * *

For once in her life, Rogue dreaded leaving detention almost as much as she did attending it. She had managed to slip notes to Kurt and Kitty before the day was out, apologizing and asking for them to go the Brotherhood with her to check up on Wanda. Throughout detention, she agonized over who would be on the other side of the door waiting for her: Kurt, Kitty, Malice, or nobody. The nobody option scared her more than Malice.

With his smooth talking, Remy had managed to convince her that the X-Men still wanted to be her friends. If he was wrong, she wouldn't go back to the Institute. How could she face them? Why should she want to? By not showing up, they would voice their opinion loud and clear.

After the teacher dismissed the delinquents, Rogue took her time gathering up her stuff. She was the last to leave the room. She edged out in the hallway and saw Amanda Sefton holding hands with Kurt.

Before he could speak, Rogue cut in. "Hey, Kurt, listen." She looked at her shoes. "Ah know Ah haven't been much of a friend lately, but Ah could use your help now."

He smiled and put his free hand on her shoulder. "I know. I read your note. That's vhat friends are for."

Rogue smiled. Kurt had the biggest, most forgiving heart she had ever met. The Goth considered hugging him, but decided against it.

When she surveyed the empty hallway her smile faded. "No Kitty, huh?"

"Oh, she's here. She went to the bathroom. She and I are 'studying' this afternoon," said Amanda.

"Do ya have any classes together?"

"Nope, but my parents don't know that. Here she is."

Smiling, Kitty stepped out from an alcove with a letter in her hand. Catching sight of Rogue, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. "Are we, like, ready to go, or what?"

Rogue's shoulders dropped. Kitty was only here out of obligation. She wouldn't put it past Kurt to have guilted Kitty into it. "Ya don't have ta come, if ya don't want to, ya know."

"After you took all the effort to write the note yourself, how could I refuse?"

"Kitty, Ah'm sorry!"

She tapped her foot. "And . . ."

"And. . ." Rogue paused and sighed. Feeling like she was in first grade again, she continued, "And Ah shoulda confided in ya in the first place. Ah was stupid."

"And. . ."

"And Ah shouldn't have run away and hid last night."

"And. . ."

Her mind drawing a blank at anything more she did that hurt the girl, Rogue snapped, "What more do ya want from meh?"

"How about a promise not to lie and keep important stuff from me again?"

The Goth sighed. "Ah promise Ah won't lie or keep important stuff from ya. Happy?"

Kitty burst open like a balloon and hugged the striped-haired mutant, who instantly tensed. "Yes! I was afraid you'd be mean again, and I've been dying to tell someone about this." She waved an envelope in Rogue's face.

"Ah regret it already," she said dryly.

"I got a letter from Piotr," Kitty squealed.

Rogue grabbed Kitty's arms and pulled her aside. "Kurt's right there," she whispered.

Kitty shrugged her off. "Oh, he knows now. He was there when I got it. He 'ported us to the Institute and back after school. He's been sworn to secrecy in exchange for weekly 'study sessions' with Amanda."

He took his attention away from his human girlfriend to shrug. "I'm easy to blackmail."

On the way to the Brotherhood house, Kitty described every English and Russian word in the multi-page letter, which was written the day Piotr arrived in Russia (8). He talked about his sister and grandmother and rediscovering all the things he enjoyed about his home that he had forgotten. As if the sappy poetry of the letter wasn't enough, Kitty marveled in the letter itself. She was oozing with giddiness. "It even smells like him," Kitty cooed and dangled the letter in front of Rogue's face again.

"Kit, if ya put that thing in mah face again, Ah'll burn it." Kitty held the letter to her chest like a kid with a candy bar.

"Are you being mean, Rogue?" Kurt teased from several paces back.

Rogue turned her head to hide a smile. Things resembled normal for the time being, and she was relieved. Things were going to be hard for her with the rest of the X-Men, but at least she had Kurt and Kitty. If she listened to them, they'd keep her honest with others and with herself.

They had stopped in front of the Brotherhood house. After Kurt and Amanda caught up, Rogue turned to her friends. "Thanks for walkin' with meh. Ya'll can go ahead and leave. Ah'll see if Lance'll give meh a ride back. If not, Ah'll call ya."

Kurt caught Rogue's eye. "Are you sure, Rogue? Ve can stay and vait."

One corner of Rogue's mouth turned up. They did still care. "Thanks, but Ah don't know how long Ah'll be. And Ah don't think Kitty's all that comfortable here." The Goth pointed to the valley girl crouching behind Amanda.

At the sound of her name, Kitty straightened up. "Who me? I'm fine." A nervous giggled passed through her lips.

"Hey, if Ah don't get ta lie, ya don't either."

"Fair enough." Kitty phased into a hedge and peered wide-eyed at the house. "I really don't want Lance to see me."

"That's probably a good idea." Rogue turned toward the house and waved. Kurt, Kitty, and Amanda waved back but stayed put until someone answered the door.

"Hey, Lance," Rogue greeted.

"Hey." His eyes narrowed. "He sent you, didn't he?"

"So today's a paranoid day, not a moping day?" Lance continued to block the doorway. Rogue rolled her eyes. "Ah came ta talk ta Wanda. Ah have no secret agenda aside from getting her outta her room and feelin' better."

"But you heard about her from him."

"Who else woulda told meh? Pietro?" Rogue attempted to push past the doorman. "Lance, move before Ah turn ya into an unconscious doorstop."

Remembering the poundings he got for getting in The Rogue's way when she lived there, Lance stepped aside. "I talked to her a little this morning. I don't know how to help her."

Rogue waltzed in. "That's why Ah'm here."

"What are you going to do?"

She headed toward the stairs. "Secret girl stuff."

"Since when are you a girl?"

Rogue flipped him off and ascended the staircase.

"Try to get her to eat something," Lance called.

When Rogue's foot hit the top step, dread smacked her like a wet towel. What was she going to do? Should she be comforting or a hard ass? One wrong word or action could lock up the stubborn Wanda for hours.

Her feet continued to the door. Deciding there was nothing else to do but play it by ear, Rogue took a deep breath and knocked. No answer. She knocked again. Still nothing. Annoyed, Rogue punched the door. It flew open revealing an empty bed and an open window.

* * *

Upon hearing the door to the stairwell slam, St. John stuck his head out of his room. "Where'd you go?"

"Out," Remy called back from the kitchen. He couldn't tell John he had been scouring the neighborhood for his MIA ex-girlfriend. He'd freak, and Magneto would find out. For everyone's sake, it was being kept on the down-low. The Brotherhood, Rogue, and Remy went out looking for her. The Brotherhood wasn't as worried as Rogue. She told them about the Marauders targeting the X-Men, but they trusted in Magneto's reputation. If Essex didn't go after Remy because he worked for Magneto, then he wasn't going to go after his daughter. It wasn't the first time Wanda had left without telling anyone. With any luck she'd stroll back in at three in the morning as if nothing had happened.

If no one had heard anything by Friday, Pietro agreed to bite the bullet and tell his father. Needless to say, everyone was surprised at Pietro's sacrifice. Of course, it wasn't Friday yet.

Taking a break from typing, John entered the kitchen to refill his glass of water. "Did you bring me back anything good?"

Remy sat down and peeled off his footwear. "Not unless you like smelly boots. Petey back yet?"

"Mags just left to pick them up at the airport. I'm almost done with Petey's gift. Wanna see?"

"Non, I think I'll go downstairs and work out."

"Work out? Why? We 'worked out' all afternoon."

"You watchin' _Rocky II_ and pretendin' to talk to me does nothin' for my abs."

"You're so vain," John sang.

"Better than sloth."

"How? Sloth have funky toes and hang out all days in the trees. Except the ground sloths -"

"Finally found the Discovery channel, eh?"

"They're rerunning the fourth season of _Coupling,_ so I had to watch something."

Remy stood up. "I'll be downstairs. Let me know when Petey gets back."

Less than an hour later, Remy heard the door open. He racked the weights he was bench pressing and sat up. "Hey, Petey." Remy grabbed a towel and wiped his face. "Johnny coming down?"

No sooner had Remy dropped the towel than a metal hand came toward his face. Remy had enough time to fall with the punch, but Piotr made enough contact to knock him off the bench and dent the wall. Remy held his bleeding nose. "What de hell was dat for?"

"You know," he growled and threw a weight at him. Remy dodged it and the weight went through the wall.

The Cajun edged himself toward the door and raised an eyebrow. "De liquor I took from your room wasn' dat good (9)."

"_Liquor_?!" Piotr picked up the bench press. "I am not angry about liquor! Where is my brother?!" The equipment crashed between Remy and the door.

Another cat had been let out of the bag of Remy's secrets. Remy didn't know how Piotr found out, but that didn't matter. He shook his head. "Je suis désolé, but t'ere wasn' anyt'ing I could do."

The hell machine, also known as an elliptical, flew at him next. "No. You lie. Always you lie! Where is he?"

With his exit blocked, Remy had to change strategies and find something he could charge and throw. He took a step toward the free weights fifteen feet away. "I don' know!"

"Liar!" Piotr chose a stool to chuck next.

Remy leapt, but the floor wasn't so lucky. "It doesn' matter if I'm lyin' or not 'cause where ever he is, he's not your brother anymore." He was within ten feet of the free weights now, but unfortunately Piotr was closer.

"He will be my brother always!"

"Remy!" St. John stumbled into the training room with his flame-thrower over one shoulder and stood between the two. "Petey, stop it!" He turned his head and whispered to Remy, "He's real pissed at you."

Wiping the blood from his face, Remy replied, "Thanks for the heads up."

After securing his weapon, John faced Piotr straight on. "Now, Petey, calm down. Look at yourself. Do you really want to beat Remy to a bloody pulp?"

The Russian's face softened while he looked at John, but once he caught a peek at the thief behind him, his anger returned. "Yes!" He threw a fifty-pound free weight at both of them.

Both dodged the projectile in opposite directions. Remy hit the floor hard, bruising his shoulder. Before he could recover, Piotr picked him up by the back of his shirt and threw him at a window.

The metal mutant stomped across the room, but before he could make it to Remy, he was surrounded by fire.

"Hulk, no more smash!" John yelled.

Piotr snorted. "Your fire does not hurt me." He stepped into the flames; his clothes turned to cinders, but he did not stop.

John's brow furrowed and the flames grew whiter and brighter. Piotr yelped and stumbled out of the fire. His feet were beginning to melt. When Piotr changed back to his human form, John scolded him, "I told you no more smashy time! You've earned yourself a time out, mister."

Remy dripped blood over to the pyromaniac. He started to pat him on the back, but stopped when he saw a huge piece of bloody glass in his hand. "T'anks, mon ami."

"You look like shit. Hey, after you clean up and get some ice for your nose, can you bring some clothes down here for the not-so-gentle giant?" Remy nodded and disappeared.

Defeated, Piotr pulled his legs to his chest in the center of the circle of fire. He cocked his head to the side. "Why do you take his side?"

Figuring Remy was safely out of range, John extinguished his ring of fire. "I'm not taking any side, mate, but I know you and I know him. If I let you guys duke it out, you'd kill each other, and for once I'm not exaggerating."

Piotr's jaw was set. "We would not. I would fight until I won."

John rolled his eyes. "And so would he. If by some slim chance you survived, you'd regret it."

"No, I would not. He is not my friend."

Surprised at Piotr's sincerity, John stared at him. If someone had asked him yesterday what Piotr would do when he got back, killing Remy was not anywhere near the list. Unless you counted Remy committing suicide from listening to Piotr talk about Kitty Pryde. Then it was number fifty-four. "Okaaayy. . . then look at it this way: You think he knows where your brother is. You want to find said brother. Remy's not a ratbag to give up a name when he's being beaten to death. So after he's gone, you still don't know where said brother is. Wow, that was a fun and fruitless ass kicking."

"What do you suggest?"

"Ask him. Nicely. With grog but without fists would be best."

"He will give more lies to me."

"Then give him more liquor." John didn't get one laugh out of Piotr. "Come on, you can trust him."

The Russian stared out the window. "I do not. I will not. Not again."

John shrugged. "I'm all outta ideas then. Guess you'll have to keep him alive until I come up with something."

"I will consult Sabertooth."

John chuckled. "Sabertooth? That's your plan? Me plotting world domination through McDonald's toys has better substance. Do you hear yourself?"

"I hear well."

Knowing he was lost in translation, John started again, "Look -"

Movement behind John caught Piotr's eye. Remy limped slightly through the doorway in his mission outfit, complete with trench coat, holding a pile of clothes. Piotr jumped up and charged while John hid his eyes from naked metal Russian.

This time Remy was ready for him. With a lunge, a trip, and a few charged cards at the back of his neck, Piotr was subdued with Remy sitting on his back. "De man you knew as your brother is gone. I saved him from de government and delivered him to Sinis- Dr. Essex, my old boss. He was one part to a four-part contact de Doc had. I don' know what de project was, and I never saw him again. Knowin' what Essex is, pray you don' either. Remember him fo' how he was, 'cause he's not dat man anymore."

"Stop telling lies to me!"

"I wish dey were lies," Remy whispered. He stood up and threw Piotr's clothes at him. "Your never gonna heal your burns in your metal form. Better change back."

John scuttled to get between them with fireballs on either palm. "Play nice, you two."

Remy tightened a towel he wrapped around his hand. The bleeding hadn't slowed. "John, I'm gonna have ta go get stitches in my hand."

A grin broke out on the Aussie's face. "You want me to cauterize it for you?"

Remy raised an eyebrow and brushed past both of them. It had been a long and exhausting day, and Remy wanted nothing more than a shower and a soft bed, but instead he had to drive to the hospital with a useless hand, a broken nose, and more bruises than he could count.

The entire Piotr situation had him conflicted and confused. How in the world did Piotr find out about his brother? It had taken Remy several weeks to put Piotr and Mikhail Rasputin in the same family, and a bottle of tequila before he realized they were brothers.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Remy almost bumped into Magneto on the stairwell. "You look worse for wear," the master of magnetism said, then smiled.

A light went on in Remy's head. He turned a suspicious eye to his boss. "Piotr found out 'bout an old job I did in Russia."

"Really? Interesting," Magneto mused.

Stoking his chin, Remy pretended to think. "Funny t'ing is, dere wasn' enough evidence for the Russian government to find me, so I wonder how a simple farmboy figured it out."

"Maybe you give him too little credit."

Too tired to play any more games, Remy's eyes glowed. "What did you – no, why de hell did you do it? What could you possibly gain -"

Magneto stuck his finger in the Cajun's face. "This is _my_ force. Not yours. You had to be reminded of your place."

Remy laughed at the absurdity. "You're insane. Dis will only hurt de team."

"No, it reaffirmed to them that I am the one they trust, and I am the one they take orders from. The _only_ one."

He wondered how he got caught up with people like Magneto. Sick and tired of the stupidity, Remy continued heading to the garage. "You'll regret dis."

"You do not frighten me, boy."

"It's not me you should worried 'bout." Remy turned and looked him straight in the eye. "It's you."

* * *

(1) Wanda was diagnosed with severe migraines after fainting in Izzy's 39 in _November Rain_: Chapters 10/11.

(2) Kitty dumped Lance in _Nine to Five_: Chapter 13. Lance caught Kitty and Piotr out on what he considered a date in _Nine to Five_: Chapter 19, which was about 5 days later.

(3) Malice infiltrated the Institute via Scott and left via Amara in _November Rain_: Chapter 8.

(4) See _November Rain_: Chapter 29.

(5) Allusion to the movie _El Orfanato (The Orphanage)_. A woman loses her adopted son Símon when he plays with his imaginary/ghost friend Tomás. Required viewing for all those horror/suspense movie lovers.

(6) Name of the actor playing Gambit in the _Wolverine_ movie.

(7) Rogue blackmailed Kitty to ask Jamie to the Descanso Rivets concert after loosing a bet in _Nine to Five_: Chapter 18.

(8) It takes about two weeks for stuff to get to South Korea from here, so I guessed Russia would be around the same amount of time.

(9) Remy took two bottles of liquor from Piotr's room in Chapter 1.

**Next up:** I lied. Where's Wanda is next chapter, plus Scott brings home a stray.


	4. A Player or a Pawn

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's. Scenes from "Self-Possessed" are included here.

* * *

**_There is a Light that Never Goes Out_: Chapter Four – A Player or a Pawn**

A jet black cat leapt onto her chest, jolting Wanda into consciousness. "What the hell, Ebony?" she yelled at the cat, who strolled away like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Although she'd never admit it, Wanda took Lance's words that morning to heart: "You need professional help." She pondered them for several hours before getting out of bed, drinking her warm orange juice, and taking that advice. She wasn't going to Xavier's though; she didn't trust the telepath. Instead she went to someone else her father wouldn't approve of.

Her feet took her to a little apartment near downtown Bayville. She tried knocking for several minutes, but no one was home. Instead of making friends with the doo-wap group on the front stoop, Wanda decided to go inside and wait for her mentor. When she hexed open the door, Ebony, Agatha Harkness's familiar, went insane. She was bouncing all over the apartment, always returning to her food dish when she thought she had Wanda's attention. Eventually Wanda ceded and gave the cat a scoop of food. The apprentice witch also took care of Ebony's empty water dish.

There was nothing written for today's date on Agatha's calendar hanging in the kitchen, so Wanda figured she would be home soon. Agatha didn't own a television, so Wanda settled on the couch and pulled the coffee table book into her lap: _Clumsiest People in Europe: Or Mrs. Mortimer's Bad-Tempered Guide to the Victorian World _(1).

The witch fell asleep on the couch several minutes later. There was something soothing about Agatha Harkness's apartment that made her feel comfortable and safe. Nothing could hurt her there, not even psycho pyromaniacs. Wanda figured it was some spell the old woman put on the place, but she didn't mind.

When Ebony woke her up, it was dark outside and the apartment was still empty. It was nearly midnight. Wanda was worried now. In Florida, she couldn't summon her mentor (2), and now she wasn't at home. She tried to summon her again with no luck.

Back in the kitchen, Wanda studied Agatha's calendar to determine the last few places she was. On Monday night the old witch was supposed to be at "Coven, Winding Way." Agatha had mentioned the Winding Way a few times, but Wanda never understood what it was. At the time, she hadn't cared; all she wanted was to control her powers so she could – a migraine pounded in her head out of nowhere. The lights flickered, and she stumbled to her coat, flung over the couch. She popped her migraine medication and laid back down in the dark. She didn't know how much time had passed before the migraine subsided.

When she felt like she could function again, the first thing that came to her mind was coffee. A cup of coffee would clear her head. She grabbed her coat and hexed the door locks behind her. The doo-wap group on the stoop was long gone, and the witch reached Izzy 39 without any trouble.

The coffee shop was empty aside from a small group of stoners giggling in the balcony and one employee cleaning up behind the counter.

"Magic eight-ball with an extra shot," Wanda said to the person behind the counter.

The coffee girl turned around and screamed. "Oh, my god! Wanda, are you okay?" Ania ran around the counter and grabbed Wanda's shoulders. She squinted into Wanda's icy blues. "You aren't possessed or anything?"

The witch brushed off the barista and raised an eyebrow. "Possessed?"

"Rogue thought you might have been possessed by this psycho bitch Malice to get to her, and she came in a couple times looking for you. So did your brother, but he only came in long enough to piss me off and leave. You should probably call them and let them know you aren't possessed, eh?" Ania reached over the counter to grab the house phone.

Wanda took the receiver. "Why was my brother looking for me?"

Ania moved over to the machines and began making Wanda's coffee. "_Everyone_ was looking for you. I woulda put up flyers if everything I drew didn't end up looking like a pig humping an apple."

"Everyone?"

"Rogue, your brother, a grease-monkey with a mullet, and a smelly short guy that hopped. . . Rogue said she had Remy scouring his neighborhood too, but he couldn't go too far without getting in trouble."

Tracing a finger on the tabletop, Wanda tried to be nonchalant. "What about John?"

With a glitter in her eye, Ania placed a steaming mug on the counter. "I can mention his name now, eh? You won't faint or give me the fifth degree?"

Wanda's eyes narrowed. She wanted a simple yes-or-no answer to see John cared enough to look for her, not teasing about her stupid crush. Silently, Wanda put her money and the phone down while picking up her coffee. She turned and walked to the door.

"No you don't!" Ania leapt over the counter, snatching the phone on her way. She scrambled to get between Wanda and the door. Putting her arms out, she said, "You aren't going anywhere until you- Whoa!"

Waving her left hand, Wanda sent Ania sliding out of the way as if she was on ice. "Out of the way, human."

Outside the coffee shop, Wanda halted and looked both ways. Should she go back to the Brotherhood or return to Agatha's and wait? The Brotherhood was full of a bunch of prying, snot-nosed pricks, while Agatha's apartment felt so safe. She had left the house for days without checking in before. What was their problem now? Besides, when she went back, her brother would bother her until he found out where she went, then he would tell Father, and she'd get in trouble for nothing. If her father was going to find out she went against his wishes to find the elder witch, then she was going to at least talk to her.

Back at Agatha's apartment, Wanda noticed that the locks were no longer tripped, and the smell of tea wafted into the hallway. Excited, Wanda burst into the apartment. She was surprised to find Mystique sitting on the couch with Ebony on her lap and a tea cup in hand.

Wanda's mouth opened as fast as she opened the door. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question," said the shapeshifter.

Wanda's free hand glowed. "You want to end up a puddle of blue goo, that's fine with me."

Raven smiled, exposing her fangs. "You may be powerful, Scarlet Witch, but you have much to learn before you can best me."

Wanda blinked and found herself wrapped up in the welcome mat with Mystique's boot pinning her to the floor. Wanda wiggled with no avail. "You made your point, now get off me," she hissed.

Raven didn't move. Ebony gracefully jumped over and sat on Wanda's head to play with her earring. "Why are you here?" Raven asked.

"I needed a cup of sugar."

Raven ground her heel a little deeper into her back; Wanda ignored the pain and bit her tongue. "Why?" she repeated.

"I'm making a cake for my sick grandmother."

"He gave you a grandmother on your trip to Rekall, Inc. (3)?"

Wanda craned her neck to look at the woman's face. "What are you blabbering about now, Mystique?"

Raven's voice was cold and demeaning. "You really are a stupid, trusting daughter."

Resuming her fruitless struggling, Wanda spat, "You're the stupid one." The lights flickered once again, and the appliances in the apartment all turned on.

"Stop acting like a child." The radio turned on full volume. Raven did not let up. She spoke over the late-night Mexican hip-hop music. "If you act like an adult, I might consider telling you what you can't figure out on your own."

The lights became steady, and all the appliances were silenced. Raven stepped off the witch, picked up her cooling tea, and sat on the couch with her legs crossed. Picking herself up off the floor, Wanda crossed her arms and glared.

Raven watched her, then sighed. "I suppose that is as grown up as you get."

"Stop the games, Mystique."

"All life is a game. The question is, are you a player or a pawn?"

"Get to the point."

Raven took a sip of her tea. "Kids today are always in a hurry. Everything must be instant. Great things may happen in an instant, but the players had to move all the right pawns into exactly the right places for it to occur."

The witch impatiently shifted her weight. "Is there a secret, or are you just lonely and want someone to talk to?"

"If that were the case, the cat would make a better companion than you."

"Ouch. I'm so insulted."

Raven frowned. "You deserve to have your world flipped upside down. Again." She finished her tea and set the empty cup on the table. "Do you remember when we first met?"

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Of course. It was when my father first hired you to train the Brotherhood. You were shorter and wore white."

She scoffed at the story. "His lack of imagination is -" Raven's cell phone vibrated on the coffee table. She glanced at the caller ID and raised an eyebrow. Ignoring Wanda, the shapeshifter picked up the phone and walked into the back bedroom.

Finding herself along, Wanda surveyed the room. The only interesting thing was Ebony sipping up her spilt coffee. With nothing better to do, Wanda leaned up against the wall outside the bedroom door to hear Raven's conversation.

Raven's voice expressed great annoyance. ". . . I thought you said they were interchangeable. . . She doesn't have the knowledge or the experience. . . Those two cannot comprehend what is happening - . . . Who then?" Instantly, her tone changed; the annoyance was replaced with genuine concern. "Tell me. . . Tomorrow? Fine," she said curtly, hanging up the phone. Raven cocked her ear to the doorway. "It's not polite to eavesdrop."

"You answered your cell phone in the middle of a conversation, Ms. Manners," Wanda retorted.

Raven pushed past the witch and practically sprinted to the kitchen. When Wanda caught up, Raven was scribbling an address on a message pad. She ripped off the paper and handed it to the teenager. "Go here tomorrow. They open at ten." She brushed past Wanda again on her way to the front door.

The witch examined the paper. "This is where Agatha's coven meeting was at. Why -"

Shifting forms to something less conspicuous, Raven turned the doorknob. "It's time you started figuring out things for yourself."

Wanda hexed the door shut. "You can't go building up some huge mystery, then give me an address and run off!"

Unnerved, Raven said, "I can and will." Raven shifted into a bat and flew out the open window in the bathroom.

* * *

The address Mystique gave her lead Wanda to a small store on the east side called Winding Way. The windows were dim and cluttered, not letting much afternoon light into the shop. Incense wafted out into the street.

Ebony struggled and leapt from Wanda's arms and ran down the alley. Wanda cursed. She knew she shouldn't have brought the cat, but it looked so sad when she left. "Ebony," the witch called and ran after the black cat. At the back of the building Wanda caught sight of a black tail disappearing through a broken window over a dumpster. "Stupid cat," she grumbled and crawled on top of the brown bin. Peering into the window she hissed, "Ebony." Movement in the building caught her eye, and she ducked out of sight.

"Margali is going to email the Seven to help us with our search," said one woman.

"Normal people would call the cops," said another.

"You know, I might do that as well. It's a good possibility they'd send a young, pre-beer belly one to interview us."

"Do you ever think of anything other than your hormones?"

"My dear sister Lorelei, love is my gift. Just because you don't embrace your inherited talents, doesn't mean the rest of us will live a lie."

"Leena, you run around with candles and mix potions for teenage drama queens."

"My name's not Leena anymore, it's Amora (4). I don't know why you're complaining. They put money in your pocket too."

"I believe in alternative medicine and natural health, not this wicca mumbo-jumbo Mom taught you, _Leena_._"_

"You've seen it with your own eyes. Get out of denial, girl!"

There was a loud clatter and swearing. "I thought I told you no cats!" Lorelei shouted.

"It's not mine. I have birds, remember."

"Get Sefton on the phone and have her pick up her cat then."

"Margali doesn't have any familiars. Her close-minded husband's allergic."

"Then I'm catching the flea-bag and taking it to the pound." Lorelei growled.

Now Wanda grew nervous. Agatha would never forgive her if she lost her familiar. If she ever came back, anyway. She twisted to look through the broken window.

A platinum blonde leaned against a stack of boxes and flipped her hair. "The nearest no-kill is in Peekskill," she sang, seemingly to herself.

Another woman appeared from behind a stack of crates, similar looking but not as glamorous as the other. She held Ebony like a new father with his first child. "I don't have time for this!" She bit her lip. "It's going to the Humane Society."

"NO!" Wanda exclaimed. She aimed to hex the woman with the cat, but her foot slipped, and she slipped off the dumpster onto the ground. Groaning, she rolled to her knees.

When the back door open, Wanda was quick to her feet. Her hands glowed and the older women froze. "Drop the cat."

The sister's eyes narrowed. "Or what?" they asked simultaneously, then glared at each other.

Instead of replying, Wanda sent a hex bolt at each of them. The one dropped Ebony and fell backward into the open steal door. The cat hid behind the other woman's legs. The platinum one with the cleavage tossed some dust on the ground and mumbled something before the bolt hit. The blue energy dissipated instead of hitting her.

Wanda's face crinkled. "How did you -"

The smell of honeysuckle filled the air. "I'll ask the questions, sweetheart." The blonde took a step forward and stroked Wanda's cheek. The apprentice witch was mesmerized. "Selene is getting pretty desperate to send a little misfit like you after us. What does she want?"

Wanda could not avoid Leena's eyes. "Who?"

Leena's eyes remained locked with Wanda. "If not for Selene, then why are you here, blue eyes?"

Wanda replied without hesitation. "I was looking for Agatha Harkness. Mystique gave me this address."

"Ah, Mystique. I haven't seen her in a while. Why were you looking for Agatha?"

"I need help."

"With what?" Leena sang.

Wanda struggled not to reply but found the truth falling from her lips. "I. . . lost. . .him again. I need to learn how to get back to the Nexis and fix it."

"Nexis?" she exclaimed. "How do you know about the Nexis?"

"I've been there."

Leena scrutinized the girl. "What's your name?"

"Wanda Maximoff."

Leena broke eye contact and hugged Wanda. "You were Agatha's charge! I thought your father brainwashed you into not practicing witchcraft anymore."

Blinking, Wanda came out of her haze. She pushed Leena away from her and hexed the fire escape ladder to wrap around the leggy witch. "What did you do to me?" she growled.

Although she was angry, Leena's voice was soothing. "Calm down. It was just a little truth charm. Love spells are my specialty, though. They take a little more finesse. Now let me out." Ebony settled on the witch's lap.

"Tell me where Agatha is!"

Leena was able to lock eyes with the red witch for a second time. "Let me out and we'll talk over tea. My clothes are getting dirty."

In a trance, Wanda loosened the rungs, but she snapped out of it before Leena was freed. She tightened the rungs. "Stop it!"

"Okay! Okay! I'll knock off the charms if you'll let me up out of the dirt."

Lorelei groaned and rubbed the back of her head. "Ugh, what did you get us into this time, Leena?"

"It's Amora," she snapped. Losing her patience, Leena glared at Wanda. "Are you going to let me out, or what?"

"Why should I trust you?"

"Didn't Agatha teach you anything? Familiars have a sixth sense about these things. Your familiar trusts me. You can too."

Wanda eyed Ebony. The cat blinked in reply. She couldn't believe she was trusting the opinion of an animal that could be amused for hours by six inches of string, but she was desperate. "Fine." Wanda released her hex. "But one wrong move, and I'll hex back your original nose."

Leena huffed, and Lorelei snickered as all three entered the backroom of the Winding Way.

* * *

After detention, two people were waiting outside: A tall boy with shaggy brown hair and Kurt Wagner. Kurt stood up and waved. "Hi, Rogue. How was detention?"

Rogue popped a hip and raised an eyebrow. "What kind of a question is that?"

The boy with the long hair came up behind the two. "Your name's Rogue?" She nodded, and his eyes narrowed. "You're a mutant, aren't you?"

Rogue glared. "What's it ta you?"

The boy shoved the Goth into the wall. "You mutants have some nerve! What did you do? Mind control the principal? Is this some sort of new human kid hazing?"

Always the peacemaker, Kurt wedged himself between them. "There's no need to hit each other. I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding."

The boy raised his eyebrow. "A misunderstanding? The principal gave me an in-school suspension today because I supposedly left school for lunch with you yesterday and skipped detention. He said changing my eye color didn't fool him."

"Your name's Taylor?" He nodded, and Rogue sheepishly continued, "Ah may have told Kelley that mah boyfriend was you."

Taylor's face grew red. "I'd never date a mutie!"

"Well, Ah'd never date an asshole," she shot back.

Taylor tried to attack Rogue again, but Kurt stood his ground between them. "She didn't mean to get you in trouble. Rogue. . . ." With his expression, he asked her to apologize.

She swallowed her pride and stepped up. "Honesty, Ah didn't mean ta get ya suspended. Is there somethin' Ah can do ta make it up ta ya?"

"How about you step in front of a moving bus? Are all mutants as stupid as you?"

"You're callin' meh stupid? In government yesterday ya said Arnold Schwarzenegger should run for President."

"He should. He'd win."

Stupefied, Kurt joined the argument. "He's Austrian."

"Oh, so you're a mutie-lover and a bigot."

Rogue pushed Kurt aside and poked Taylor in the chest. "If Ah fight ya, will ya shut ya moronic trap?"

Grabbing her arm, Kurt yanked her back. "No, Rogue. It's not the way."

She took off one glove. "Why not? It's not like they'll be any blood. One tap and he's down."

They looked up and Taylor was charging them. Kurt pulled them into the men's bathroom and teleported them back to the mansion.

Rogue ripped her arm from Kurt's grasp. "What'd ya do that for?" She fanned the sulfur air.

"You were acting crazy. Fighting him wouldn't solve anything, and it would only get you into more trouble."

"So we run away? That'll solve the problem."

"You were really going to absorb that boy because he pissed you off?"

"It'd shut him up."

"He already had one excuse to hate us, and you were going to give him another."

Rogue grew quiet. "Didn't think about it that way." She cocked her head and looked Kurt in the eye. "Will they ever stop hating us?"

Kurt put his hands on Rogue's shoulders. "Only if we keep loving them."

"Mah god. Ya sound like a bad Sunday morning cartoon."

"It almost made me vomit," said an unfamiliar voice. The pair looked around the room. They were in the rec room with Scott, Jean, Kitty, and a guy that looked like a crystal figurine.

"Uh, Rogue, Kurt, this is Armel. Armel, this is Kurt and Rogue."

Armel took Kurt's hand and reached for Rogue's. She jerked it back. "Nothin' personal." Slipping on her glove, she asked, "What's your story?"

Kitty popped in, before he could say a word. "He's, like, Scott's gay friend. He got in some trouble, so he's going to stay with us for awhile."

"Thank ya, Kitty, but Ah was askin' Armel here." She nodded to the new guy.

Kitty shrunk back into the couch. "Sorry."

Armel sat on the couch and patted Kitty's knee. "It was probably more interesting coming from you, anyway. I'm not a good story teller."

Rogue cocked her head and squinted at the new addition. "Do Ah know ya from somewhere?"

Armel snorted. "Do you need your eyes checked? If you can't tell, I kind of have an unforgettable face."

"Right, sorry. What kinda trouble were you in?"

"Nothing I want to talk about." He turned up his nose to the Goth.

Scott nodded at Rogue. "It's okay, Armel. Rogue actually had a similar experience."

Rogue stared at him wide-eyed. "You were in the magazine."

"You read _MZ_? Than that means you . . ." His cynical demeanor changed, and he launched a hug at her.

Rogue saw it coming and sidestepped him. "What are ya doin'?! Don't touch meh!"

Stepping between a hurt Armel and a defensive Rogue, Scott explained, "It's all right, Rogue. He got tricked into working for Essex, just like you almost did. He was working off his debt in public relations, and Essex tried to get him into the recruitment sector. He had only met Scrambler, Malice, Vertigo, and Wisdom. After he realized what was going on, he tried to quit. He's going to stay with us until it blows over."

Rogue backed away to the door. "And ya trust him?! Did you read his mind?"

"You know we don't work like that, Rogue," Jean exclaimed.

Scott stepped forward. "Wisdom and Scrambler were after him when we found him."

"It coulda been staged."

"Excuse me?" Armel sassed. "I do not get my jollies from being chased around the city by two crazies, thank you very much."

"Why were ya runnin' around Bayville? Why didn't ya stay in the city?"

"I've heard stories." Armel scanned the room to make sure he had everyone's attention. "You can't just runaway from Genesis Medical. You have to get protection. When I tried to recruit Scott he told me all about the school (5). I thought I could have sanctuary for a while. I didn't realize this place was full of uptight homophobes."

"Ah'm not a homophobe. Ah suck the life and memories outta people Ah touch. Pardon meh for preferring ya ta be conscious." Rogue tapped her chin. "Course, then Ah'd know whether ya were tellin' the truth."

Fed up with defending himself, Armel held up his hand. "Do you prefer to kiss my hand or my ass?"

Rogue glared as she pulled her fingers out of her glove. Scott knocked Armel's hand away. "You don't have to do this."

Armel raised his hand again. "Oh, I will, if it'll shut her up."

Scott bowed back. All eyes were on Rogue. She felt exposed, as if everyone considered her the enemy in this. She looked at the talking figurine with his bare hand stretched toward her. His hand looked so delicate. Her eyes wandered up to his face. There was no fear in his eyes, only annoyance. He could be telling the truth. Or he could be a really good actor.

If she touched him, she'd know, but she'd also lose the respect she was trying to win back from her teammates. If she couldn't trust the other's judgment in him, then why should they trust her?

Then she saw the loophole. Hiding her excitement, Rogue pulled her glove back on. "Forget it," she huffed and left the room.

Kitty followed her. "Why didn't you touch him?"

Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Ya wanted meh to?"

Hurrying to walk at Rogue's side, Kitty talked out of the side of her mouth. "He kinda gives me the creeps."

"Ah was told Kurt did too when ya first got here."

"That's the thing! I don't know if it was just me being shallow or genuine creepiness. I think Jean is kind of suspicious of him, too."

"Well, Ah'm not gonna touch a possible psycho for ya ta figure out how shallow ya really are."

"But that's totally what friends are for!"

They turned down a carpeted hallway. "How 'bout Ah tell ya what Ah find out from Arclight's memories?"

"You're going to see the Professor?"

They stopped in front of a set of double doors. "Ah'm here, aren't Ah?"

The valley girl squealed. "I'm so proud of you!"

The Goth blushed in spite of herself. "Yeah, yeah." She leaned into the doors. They only opened an inch when they were enveloped in a blue glow, and Rogue flew across the hallway.

"Rogue!" Kitty ran to her friend. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Rogue sat up and rubbed her head. "What was that?"

They both looked at the doors to the Professor's office that looked completely normal now. Soon the Professor's voice rang in their heads. **I'm sorry, ladies. I'm with. . . an appointment. I'll be glad to meet with you later this evening.**

"Uh, so now what?" Kitty asked.

"Something's up. Try walkin' through the wall," Rogue ordered.

Kitty fiddled with her hands. "I don't know. I don't want to disturb him. He said he'd meet with you later."

"Ya were gettin' the creeps around the livin' chandelier, but the Professor blockin' us out of his office is fine and dandy?"

The brunette took a deep breath. "Okay." She stood and walked toward the wall. Placing her hand on the wood paneling, Kitty pushed. Nothing happened.

"I can't get in."

Suddenly, the doors that had rejected Rogue moments earlier, burst open. Professor Xavier rolled out. "I appreciate your concern, but my appointment requests the utmost privacy."

"But Professor, Ah'm ready ta go inta Arclight's memories."

The Professor's forehead creased. "I hate to say this, but I can't meet with you right now, Rogue. Come back later this evening."

"Ya said anytime."

He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I know, but I can't meet right now."

"What's goin' on? Who's in there?" Rogue pushed past the Professor, but before she could look in, her mind shut off. She stood in a trance. The Professor turned to Kitty and did the same to her.

"I'm sorry," he said.

* * *

A minute later, Professor Xavier parked inside his office door. With a pained face, he heard two of his students pass by.

"You're going to see the Professor?" Kitty asked.

"Yeah, but not 'til later tonight," answered Rogue.

The valley girl squealed. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Yeah, yeah. Did you hear anything 'bout Wanda yet?"

"Ania called. She said Wanda stopped by during her graveyard shift last night. She didn't think she was, like, possessed or anything, but Wanda wouldn't call anyone. She got really cranky when Ania teased her about John."

"What made her think she could tease her?" Rogue mumbled. "Ah should go ta Izzy's and see if she comes back. Ya mind comin' with meh?"

As their voices faded, the Professor turned to his guest. "I didn't appreciate having to alter their memories. Perhaps now you can tell me why you are here."

Clutching a black cat to her chest, the young witch glared. "Desperation."

* * *

A rubber ball bounded back and forth in the basement of Xavier's School for the Gifted. Rogue grunted and smacked the ball back to the wall. Scott ran across the room to hit the ball on the bounce. Rogue pulled a fancy move and ran up the wall to put a good angle on it. Scott tried a fancy move of his own, but instead ended up flat on his stomach.

He tried to make his defeat look a little more graceful by quickly moving to a sitting position. "Whoo, you whooped me good. Thanks for playing with me. I wasn't sure you would after what's happened the last few days."

Rogue smiled and extended a hand to help him up. When Scott had asked her to play racquetball with him she was surprised and excited. She didn't think she would regain Scott's friendship until she broke up with Remy.

"Want a rematch tomorrow night?" she asked. While Rogue and Kitty staked out Izzy's, Remy had called and left a message with Amara: Magneto was putting a lockdown on the boys until the business with Mesmero was finished. He couldn't count on Piotr to cover for him or go with him, so there was no way he could come to the concert tomorrow night.

At least the Wanda stakeout wasn't a bust. The witch popped in for two seconds with a cat, grumbled something about Rogue minding her own business and took off again. She and Kitty drove by the Brotherhood on their way back to the Institute. They had planned on stopping, but seeing Pietro stuck up the neighbor's flag pole by his underwear told them that Wanda had already been there.

Scott walked toward his gear. "Tomorrow? Uh, sorry, it's the concert."

Rogue kept a fake smile on her face to cover up her disappointment: She was going to be all alone Friday night. Maybe Logan would let her try the new danger room program. "Oh, right." She turned and put a lock of hair behind her ear. "So, are ya goin' with anyone?" It wouldn't be as fun to go with Scott, but it would be better than helping Mr. McCoy study for his exams.

As he packed up his gym bag, Scott glanced at Rogue out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah, with, um, Jean. How 'bout you? Do you and Gambit have any plans?"

Rogue played with the frame on her racket. "Nah, Remy's hangin' out with the guys, and Ah'm not really a fan of the Descanso Rivets." Rogue left it at that, knowing that mentioning Remy's real situation would only ruin what she was trying to rebuild.

Scott whipped the zipper of his bag closed, and raced to the door. "We'll play next week then?"

Rogue was put off by Scott's hurried departure. The fake smile came out again. "Sure, next week." When Scott was two steps down the hallway, Rogue called, "Storm put ya up ta this, didn't she?"

Scott turned around and set down his bag. "I wouldn't have asked you to play if I didn't want to."

The goth looked at the floor, letting her bangs fall in her face. "Sure."

"You should give Armel a chance."

Rogue looked him in the eye. "Like you're givin' meh a chance?"

He put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm trying. Please try with Armel too. You have a lot in common. I'm sure he would appreciate talking to someone who knew what he went through."

Rogue looked at the wall. "Maybe."

Satisfied with her response, Scott took off, and Rogue gently closed the door.

It was funny how things work out. She lost the X-Men's trust and had to win it back by befriending a possible psycho. Scott and Jean were back together, and she might as well be single again with Remy under house arrest. Why were she and Remy together again? They couldn't touch like Jean and Scott, and now they couldn't even spend time together. Jealousy crept into Rogue.

Unbidden, memories of Jean and Scott blasted her head. Rogue slid to the floor in pain. Memories had never attacked her like that before. She swallowed hard and breathed deeply. They were gone as quickly as they had come.

_This is probably a side-affect from Essex's treatment_. Rogue's blood began to boil at the thought of him. How dare he play God with her life? He didn't even think about how the treatments would affect her mind. Rogue growled and grabbed her racket and the ball. She pretended the ball was his little head as she beat it into the wall over and over again, like she brought the table leg down on his body (6). With each strike she felt stronger and stronger.

Instead of the ball bouncing back, it busted through the wall. Rogue was bombarded with another set of memories. This time they were Arclight's, then Freddy's. She threw the racket and it lodged itself next to the ball. It took longer this time for Rogue to push back his memories of Scalphunter and Fred's experience at Area 51.

Rogue opened her eyes one at a time. She was lying on the floor of the racquetball room. "Ah… ah just need some sleep," she said out loud. Rogue gathered up her own gym bag. "It's been a long and crazy day, and a good night's sleep will do meh good. Tomorrow Ah'll suffer through school and spend the night with a good book and everythin' will be fine." She glanced up at the racket sticking out of the wall and ran from the room, completely forgetting about her session with Xavier.

* * *

A limo drove through the deteriorating neighborhood next to the old factories. It stopped outside a brick townhouse with a blonde cat sitting out front. The back window rolled down, and the cat ran down the steps and leapt into the backseat of the car. The car drove away.

The cat turned in a circle and sat down next to Irene Adler. Soon the cat was no longer a cat, but the shape-shifter Mystique. "I'm here. Now tell me, Destiny, what is so important?"

The blind woman was not surprised at Raven's hostility, but she was disappointed. Raven blamed her for losing Rogue to the X-Men, and since then their correspondence had been short, cold, and business only. It was true that Irene did nothing to stop Rogue from defecting, but Raven was also responsible for the choices she made. In the big picture, it was for the best, but Raven was too emotional over the matter to listen to reason.

Equally cold, Irene answered, "I've come to warn you, Mystique. I've had disturbing visions about Rogue."

"Explain." Raven's voice was emotionless, but Irene knew she had her undivided attention.

"It's always been clear that she will somehow play a key role in our future. But now, it all goes dim."

"Why?"

"Because she may not live long enough to fulfill it."

Without hesitation, Raven asked, "What do I need to do?"

* * *

The limo dropped Irene off at her hotel. She drew out her cane and walked up the steps. There was a shuffle to her left. She froze. _Is it starting already?_ "Hello? Who's there?"

A deep, scratchy voice said "An old friend." The man stepped forward.

Irene raised an eyebrow. "'Friend' is a stretch, Nathaniel."

"Did you speak to Raven?"

"I did." Irene continued up the steps. She heard a doorman push open the outer door for her.

"Will she do it?"

"Oh, you meant to ask me, 'Did you tell her what I wanted you to?' Then no."

Irene sensed that Nathaniel meant to grab her arm, but the doorman stood up straighter. Irene figured he must be a brute.

"Stupid woman," he hissed.

Turning her head over her shoulder, Irene replied, "Perhaps, but can a smart man like you see the future?" Irene turned the rest of her body to him while remaining in the safety of the hotel's entryway. "Although Raven and I are not currently on the best terms, we are still friends. I will not manipulate her for your pet projects. I have my own interests in this." With that, she disappeared into the depths of the hotel, leaving a scowling Dr. Nathaniel Essex on the cold street.

* * *

(1)A real book. I've never read it, but it sounded funny on Barnes & Noble. Right now I'm reading _Pirates! in an Adventure with the Communists_ by Defoe, bound to be a literary classic in the pirate adventure genre.

(2)Wanda tried to summon Agatha in _November Rain:_ Chapter 25 to help her get back to the Nexis to "fix things" after John left.

(3)In the movie _Total Recall_, Rekall, Inc. is a company that gives people memories, usually virtual vacations.

(4)These two characters are based on the Asgardian sisters Lorelei and Amora aka Enchantress from the comics. Leena Moran was one of Amora's aliases.

(5) Armel/Prism tried to recruit Scott in _November Rain_: Chapter 13.

(6)Rogue, fueled by Arclight's hatred, tried to beat Dr. Essex to death in _November Rain:_ Chapter 28.

* * *

**Next up**: "Self Possessed"


	5. SelfPossessed Uncut

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's. Scenes from "Self-Possessed" are included here.

* * *

_**There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Five - Self-Possessed**

Rogue sat in front of her bedroom mirror and brushed her striped hair. So far, so good. She hadn't had another memory bomb since the night before. Rogue wrote it off as a fluke of Essex's incomplete treatment; she was back to normal now.

She set down the brush and looked at her gloves. _As normal as Ah get, anyway_. A flash of Scott and Jean holding hands and roses slammed her mind. "Ah spoke too soon," she told herself. Rogue looked at the clock, then jumped up. She didn't have time to think about what was going on, she was going to miss her ride.

Opening her bedroom door, Rogue almost ran into Logan. "Rogue," he said gruffly.

Rogue tried to hide her nervousness, but it showed through her voice. "Logan." She held her arms and glanced at her shoes. "Is somethin' wrong?"

"That's kinda what I was wondering." He pulled a broken racquet from behind his back. "This look familiar?"

"Well -" she started.

Luckily, Kitty came around the bend. She giggled and grabbed Rogue's arm as she passed between Logan and Rogue. "Come on! Jean's gonna give us a ride in her new SUV."

Rogue waved to Logan apologetically as she disappeared around the corner. Once out of sight, Kitty let go of her arm. "Thanks, Kit," said Rogue.

Her roommate smiled. "No problem. You looked freaked. Have you even talked to Logan since you came back?"

Rogue looked at her shoes. "Not really."

"How'd your session with the Professor go? Did you get any dirt on Armel?"

"The Professor! Ah forgot!"

The two reached the garage. "Well, it's too late now. I hope Armel's not a drag queen who'll borrow my clothes without asking and stretch them all out."

Rogue chuckled. "Ah don't think he's a queen."

Hearing Jean start up the car, the two ran and jumped in the back seat. "All right," Kitty said. "Hey, Jean. Now that you've got wheels, how 'bout carpooling to the concert tonight?" She and Rogue buckled their seat belts.

Jean shifted her eyes. "Oh, well, ah, um, I'm, I'm kinda going with, um, Scott."

"No problem, he won't mind. Unless it's some kind of . . ." Kitty paused and leaned on the passenger seat. "Whoa, it's a date, isn't it?"

Jean hesitated a little too long. "Uh, no, it isn't."

"You guys are actually going out!"

With a puff of smoke, Kurt popped into the passenger seat. "Who's going out?"

"Jean and Scott. Can you believe it?"

"No way. Really?" Kurt turned to Jean for conformation. "It's about time."

"No kidding. I thought they'd tip-toe around it for at least another month."

Rogue sighed. Jean had Scott, Kurt had Amanda, and Kitty had Piotr. Who did she have? A guy who couldn't manage to talk to her for two days. She scolded herself. While she searched for Wanda, she wasn't able to make herself available either.

"Jean's got a date," Kitty sang.

"I do not," she argued. Kurt and Kitty giggled.

"Would ya guys drop it already?" Rogue barked. She didn't need to be reminded of the lonely night ahead of her.

Jean looked in her rear view mirror. "Thanks, Rogue. This is the first time we've gone out alone together since we fought. I don't want to jinx it (1)."

"Ah didn't say it for ya. Their girly squeals were hurtin' mah ears."

"Well, thanks anyways," she mumbled.

Silence in the car only lasted a few minutes before Kitty busted into her latest letter from Piotr. Rogue tuned most of it out. She had already heard the letter and Kitty's over-analysis of it before she fell asleep the night before. Rogue was tempted to ask Kitty whether Piotr had called or not, but she stopped herself. If Piotr had called his girlfriend, she wouldn't be so worked up over four page letters.

Rogue glanced at Kitty, who was smiling and blushing slightly. She wondered how long it would last. The Goth couldn't help being cynical. She wanted her friend to be happy, but she knew that it would soon end.

What could possibly be going on over there that Piotr could not get away for five minutes to call her? Even Remy found a few minutes to leave a message with Amara. Then came a bigger question: Should Rogue tell Kitty that her boyfriend was back in town? She was her friend, so was Rogue obligated to spill the beans?

Rogue was still contemplating telling Kitty when she approached the girl's bathroom at Bayville High. Another memory bomb exploded, this time of her and Kitty first bonding after Rogue joined the X-Men. They were both trying out for the school play. The next thing Rogue knew she was in the bathroom and someone familiar was calling her name.

"Rogue! There you are. I was looking all over for you." The Brit Risty Wilde put away her make-up and grabbed Rogue's covered upper arms.

Still hazy from Kitty's memories, Rogue pushed her away. "Risty? Where have ya been? Ya totally disappeared." Rogue couldn't believe she said "totally".

"Stuck in England." Risty rolled her eyes. "My parents wouldn' let me come back 'ere with all the..." She waved her hand while thinking of the right word. "...fuss and everything. I finally talked them into it."

Rogue looked at the floor. She was a part of the fuss all those months ago when the Sentinel program launched (2). When Rogue came back to school, she had been disappointed her best friend had disappeared, but she hadn't thought about how Risty would have reacted when she found out Rogue was a mutant. The X-Man tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Uh, yeah. Big fuss."

Risty spun Rogue around and pushed open the bathroom door. "Rogue, I'm sorry I wasn' 'ere for you."

Hearing those words made Rogue's heart soar. Risty didn't hate her for keeping such a big secret, but, more importantly, she didn't hate her for being a mutant. The revelation made Rogue feel at ease. "It's no big deal. But Ah'm the one that should feel bad. Here we are, friends, and Ah was hiding who Ah really was from ya."

The two reached a drinking fountain, and Rogue bent down to take a drink. The friendship she had with Risty felt good. _Storm was right: Things can change, but if ya try, your friendship will be stronger._(3)

Mid-sip, yet another memory bomb dropped. Rogue screamed and stepped back as memories of Storm flashed behind her eyes, and lightning bounced around the drinking fountain. Rogue gasped. She hadn't touched Storm for weeks; she hadn't touched anyone since she got back from Essex. How could she summon lightning? What was happening to her?

Risty's voice brought her back to reality. "Rogue, are you all right?"

Her head shot around like a deer who just heard a wolf's cry. "Ah- Ah don't know." Everyone was staring and pointing and whispering. Rogue couldn't take it and ran outside.

It wasn't long before Risty found her sitting on a picnic table. She took a seat next to the mutant. "Were those your powers?"

Rogue's head shot up. "No. Yes. Ah mean, sort of. It's too hard ta explain."

"You know, it's okay. I understand if you don' want to talk about it." The Brit stood up.

"No, wait, Ah do." Rogue stood up and walked toward her. "Um, well," she mumbled as she slipped off a glove. Rogue held up her hand six inches from Risty's face. "If Ah were ta touch ya right now, Ah'd probably put ya in a coma. Your life force, your memories, everything about you would all flow into meh."

Pulling up her bag, Risty stepped away, but didn't run. "That's...freaky."

Satisfied that their friendship was stronger than her freaky self, Rogue continued, "Yeah, it is. And worse, everyone Ah've touched stays inside of meh." She slipped her glove back on and slouched on the bench. "It's getting a little crowded."

"But you can shut it off, right? You don't always . . ." The girl trailed off when she caught sight of Rogue's sad eyes. "Oh." She snorted. "And 'ere I thought you dressed like that for the subculture."

One corner of Rogue's mouth turned up. "Ah do. Ah was Goth long before Ah figured out Ah had powers."

Flopping down on the bench next to Rogue, Risty put her hand on her own chest. "Pheww, I was afraid since the cat was out of the bag you'd pull some pastel frock out of your wardrobe, eager to show it off."

Rogue snorted. "Not unless one of the Pevensies left it there (4)."

"I bet it was Susan. She looked like an evil bitch."

Rogue laughed, then put on her serious face. "Ah did try ta get mah powers fixed while ya were gone."

Surprise hit Risty like a Mack truck. "What? What do you mean 'fixed'? Can you do that?"

"Ah didn't tell anyone, but Ah found a clinic that said they could." She looked at her hands. "At the last minute, Ah couldn't go through with it. Just the idea of it made meh turn inta someone Ah didn't like very much. Ah didn't want ta meet the person Ah'd become if Ah had gone through with it."

"Whoa." Risty opened and closed her mouth a few times. "I should 'ave been 'ere."

Rogue tilted her head and looked her friend in the eye. "Ya couldn't. Ya parents were scared for ya. They had good reason ta be."

"I should 'ave been 'ere for you."

"Ah got through it." Rogue smiled to reassure her. "A little worse for wear, but Ah made it."

"I can't think of any way I could ever make this up to you."

Rogue looked up as she tapped her chin. "A lifetime of servitude and -"

Risty's head shot around. "Hide!" She pushed Rogue under the table, then started dancing on top of it.

"Risty Wilde," Principal Kelly's voice boomed.

She slammed her combat boots together and saluted the man. "Yes, sir. Reporting for duty."

Kelly shook his head and pulled out a pad of paper. "First day back, and you are already skipping classes."

"I couldn' disappoint you, sir," she shouted.

He ripped off the sheet of paper he was scribbling on. "In-school, Monday."

Risty held out her non-saluting hand for the paper. Unfortunately, Rogue sneezed underneath the table. When Kelley bent down to look underneath the table, Risty shouted, "Permission to ask a question, sir!"

"What is it, Wilde?" he asked, forgetting about the mysterious sneeze.

"Will you be servicing the suspension, sir?"

The Principal raised an eyebrow. "No. Why?"

Smiling, the student winked at him. "I wouldn't consider it punishment to be with you all day," she cooed.

Kelly blushed. "Get to class!" he ordered and disappeared inside the building.

When the coast was clear, Risty jumped off the table and Rogue climbed out. "That was the grossest thin' Ah've ever heard," said Rogue and sat back down.

"_You_ thought it was gross? You didn' 'ave to say it!" Risty shuddered. "What I do for my friends."

Rogue smiled. "Thanks."

"Am I on my way to making it up to you?"

"Definitely."

Risty slipped her arm into Rogue's and gave it a squeeze. "Hey, how bout we go laugh at the geeks at the concert tonight?"

"Risty, Ah kinda miss havin' ya around." The Brit dragged Rogue off of the bench and back to class before the principal came out again.

* * *

After school Risty and Rogue caught up, picked out outfits for the concert, and spent a good amount of time teasing Kitty about having to take Jamie to the concert.

"You are both totally EVIL!" Kitty exclaimed as she pulled clothes from her closet.

The Goths rolled around laughing on Rogue's bed. "Ah hear Jamie's borrowin' a suit from Roberto to wear."

Risty's head hung upside down off the bed. "Aww. . .he'll look so adorable. Like a pup in a big blanket."

Kitty pulled a pink sweater out of the closet and held it to her chest. "Can we _please_ talk about something else?"

Risty spoke up first. "How 'bout the fact you only 'ave ten more minutes to pick out an outfit and get dolled up 'fore the train leaves?"

Kitty squeaked and scrambled around the room at lightning speed. Rogue and Risty poked each other and chuckled as Kitty stumbled over her discarded shoes before she realized she could phase freely in front of both of them.

Risty watched Kitty stick her head in a box. "I don' know if I'll ever get used to that."

"That's nothin. When she reaches through a closed door ta turn off the light, that's creepy. All ya see is this severed hand feelin' around."

"Like someone stuck a waffle in the Amytiville toaster? (5)"

"Only untoasted."

Risty tapped her check. "I wonder, would you butter a toasted human hand or use preserves?"

"Jam, definitely."

Kitty sneered. "You guys are so gross."

Risty and Rogue looked at each other and laughed. This was the best Rogue had felt in a long time. It didn't matter that things were still rocky with the rest of the X-Men or that Wanda was being extra moody or even that Remy couldn't manage to get away to go to the concert.

She had called him at lunch to try and work something out so he could meet Risty, but he said he had to work on a rush job for Saturday. He only said it was big, and Rogue didn't press him for any more information. That would just complicate things and ruin her good day.

Thanks to Risty's maneuver to rush Kitty along with her preparation, they reached the concert just after the opening band took the stage. Risty and Rogue hung back until Kitty got fed up with all the vulgar gestures they were making behind Jamie's back and dragged him into the crowd.

With their source of entertainment gone, Risty nodded toward the stage. "Does the bassist look hot to you?"

Standing on her tip-toes, Rogue shrugged. "Ah don't know. Ah can't tell from here."

Risty smirked. "Let's go find out."

They pushed themselves through the crowds of people. Rogue caught sight of Scott and Jean, looking out of place standing fairly still on the crowded floor. Seeing them together made her long for Remy. A memory bomb hit her, and she doubled over in pain.

The next thing she heard was Risty shouting in her ear. "You still have a thing for 'im, don' you?"

Rogue rubbed her temple and stood up. "What?! No way. And Scott and Jean are practically a couple again."

"Really?" The Brit put her arm around Rogue in condolence. "They deserve each other. And you, my girl, can do better." She poked Rogue in the chest.

Rogue blushed a little and wrung her hands. "Ah kinda did meet someone while ya were away."

Risty threw her arms in the air. "I'm gonna kill my parents. What else did I miss? Is he rich and handsome?"

"Handsome, yes. Rich, no. He was gonna come here with meh tonight but he had to work. His name is Remy."

Risty snorted. "Remy, huh? Sounds like a low-totem pole gangster. The kind that go against the big man, get addicted to coke, and end up ratting out their friends."

"Ya need ta stop watchin' _Goodfellas_ every week." Rogue found a small empty space and turned to yell in Risty's ear. "Is this close enough?"

Shaking her head, Risty shoved herself forward. Rogue reluctantly followed. When Risty stopped, Rogue tapped her on the shoulder, then shouted as she held her hands to her ears. "Ah think this was a mistake. Ah don't do well in crowds. Ah can't even move."

"Oh, relax. You're covered up enough," Risty scoffed as someone pushed Rogue into her friend. At first she stood her ground, but memories kept bombarding her mind. Images passed over her eyes, and she began to lose track of what was real and what was a memory. Rogue moaned and grabbed the sides of her head.

She didn't see the girl falling backward towards her. The crowd parted, and Rogue's mesh got caught on the girl's jewelry. Her shirt ripped, exposing her arm. Just like any hole on the dance floor, eager party-goers filled in fast. It wasn't long before a boy touched her. Rogue stumbled backward, touching another girl. Bodies were falling like hotcakes until Rogue ran into Risty.

Risty was not a human like the others. Rogue felt energy, memories, and powers tumble inside. The memories and powers weren't unfamiliar: It was Mystique. The blue shapeshifter fell to the ground, and the crowd closed in around her. Rogue managed to stumble to the side where the crowd wasn't so thick. She fell to her hands and knees. Concert-goers paid her no mind aside from giving her room, thinking she had had too much to drink.

Risty was Mystique. Mystique was Risty. Her best friend was never her best friend; she only wanted to spy on the X-Men. A few minutes ago, the day had been perfect. Rogue was happy. Now everything was ripped to shreds.

Rogue looked up. Instead of being at the concert, she was in a foggy street in her mind surrounded by ghost-like psyches. She curled up into a fetal position and closed her eyes; she had lost the will to fight herself. Some of them rushed her. Sabertooth touched her first.

Back at the concert, the noise: It was so loud she couldn't think. Rogue shifted into Sabertooth and roared as she shoved her way on stage. After scaring the wannabe Kurt Cobains, she leapt on top of one set of speakers. She knocked those down and used the lights to knock down the other tower of speakers.

Now that she could think, Rogue ran into the crowd, searching for the woman who had made a mockery of her life. She tried to find Mystique's sent, but there was none. She turned around to scan the crowd, and a monkey jumped on her back. It didn't matter, she didn't care. All she wanted to do was find Logan, no. . . Mystique, and settle their grudge. She tried to throw the monkey off, but then his brothers fell from the trees, like Vietcongs (6), weighing him down. To Rogue, she was no longer in an arena, but in the jungles of Vietnam.

The gomers made the mistake of touching her bare skin. Their grips loosened, and Rogue was able to toss them off.

Free, she ran uphill to get a better look of the landscape, hoping to catch sight of her target. It was supposed to be a simple zippo mission, but the gomers ambushed her. There were three more closing in. Rogue turned and yanked a tree from the ground. She launched it at them like a missile.

Rogue caught sight of her prey, but three soldiers tried to hold her down. She tossed them aside like rag dolls. When she looked up to relocate the target, a grenade blasted her into a stone wall.

Back in her mind, Rogue rolled over and saw Sabertooth's psyche unconscious where she had been. She groaned and rubbed her torso. Sabertooth couldn't hunt Mystique down. She needed someone unstoppable. Cain Marko stepped up behind her.

Pushing the rubble off her, Rogue, looking like Juggernaut, burst through in a cloud of dust. She need to hunt Xavier. He stole her father away from her. Rogue ran across the emptying arena and made a door through the wall with her head. Once outside, Rogue stopped, confused. _No, not Xavier. Mystique._ Rogue then remembered what happened at the concert. _No, Risty_. She sunk back along the alley wall. Mystique was the last person Rogue wanted to see. She thought she had escaped Mystique and her lies when she left the Brotherhood.

Lights and sirens flashed behind her. New feelings emerged. _Humans, always interfering_. She only wanted to be left alone in peace. Before she knew it, she was wearing a bucket on her head and pushing the meddling police away.

How did these people find her? She wanted to fade away, to be left alone. Run away from everything that had happened to her. From everyone she thought that cared but didn't.

In her mind, Pietro punched his father out of her. "Please stop," she begged. She was exhausted. Too many people, too many feelings, too many memories.

"I thought you wanted to run," he replied with a smirk.

Back in reality, she ran. The police soon cornered her. Couldn't they leave her alone? Would they chase her like this if she were a human?

Rogue shifted into Webber Torque, some video game geek from school. The police drove right past her. Figured. She was the freak, the monster. They didn't care about a guy who knew more about imaginary worlds than the one he lived in.

Running down a back alley, Rogue fell against a concrete wall that smelled like vomit. In the shadows she hugged her knees and sobbed. First, it was angry mobs, then, psycho mutant scientists, now, police and fake friends. Oops, she forgot the age-old psyches merging with her in her mind and the memory bombs. She thought being trapped in Genesis Medical was the low point of her life, but she was wrong.

Footsteps clicked down the alley. "Rogue, are you all right?"

That voice revived her anger. "Get away from meh!"

Raven stopped and stood her ground. "No."

With red eyes, Rogue stood up and stomped to the woman. "Ah said get away!" she screamed in Mystique's face.

"Please listen," she said, and Rogue obliged- she didn't know why. A second ago, she had wanted to pound her face in. Raven continued with a low, calm voice. "I know I've hurt you, but I only posed as your friend so I could be near you."

Rogue felt her face change. She now looked like the woman across from her. Mystique would never eat that bullshit, and she wouldn't either. "Liar!" Rogue grabbed Mystique's arm, pulled her close, and punched her in the chest. "Ah know the truth. You used me to spy on the X-Men!"

Mystique stood up from garbage and called after her own retreating form. "No, it's not that simple." Rogue spun around with a circle kick. Raven ducked, then stayed low. "Please don't do this." Rogue threw passionate but sloppy punches. Raven easily blocked them, then did a back-handspring to distance herself from her look-a-like. "If you have my memories, then you know what our relationship is." Raven held out her hand.

In her mind, Rogue found Mystique's psyche. She was holding a golden locket. "Open it." Rogue turned away, back to the real world in her own body.

Rogue's entire body shook. "Ah don't know anything!"

Raven kept her hand out, open. "Admit the truth, Rogue. I adopted you when you were four -"

Rogue threw her hand to the side. In her head, she opened the locket. Memories she had locked away flooded her mind. They weren't all Mystique's. "No!" She turned and ran, unable to cope.

"Search the memories. You are my daughter!" Raven started after her, but couldn't keep up. "Rogue!"

She ran down the street until her lungs burned. Mystique was the woman Rogue couldn't remember who spent Christmas with her and Irene. Mystique was the one she called Mama and demanded she push her higher on the swing (7). Tonight, Rogue was not only betrayed by her best friend and old mentor, but by someone she once considered her mother.

Fresh tears fell from eyes that Rogue thought had dried out ages ago. She remembered the night she- no, Mystique- dropped Kurt in the river. And the day Kurt discovered who his biological mother was.

Footsteps approached. Rogue teleported out of sight to a nearby rooftop and curled up against a new wall. She didn't know what or who she was anymore. Memories faded in and out, and she couldn't separate them from each other or her own. There were too many psyches yelling and pushing and attacking her, trying to take control. How could she go on living like this? It was driving her crazy. She had to end it. Stop the voices before she hurt people.

A motorcycle buzzed down a nearby street. Sabertooth recognized the engine, that scent. In her mind, Sabertooth slammed her against a wall. "It's my turn." Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted, Rogue didn't fight the psyche. She realized that the X-Men had come for her. They had come for the monster. Hopefully, they could stop her.

Rogue felt her body shift into Sabertooth's form. "Wolverine," she growled.

Logan never saw her coming when she tackled him off his motorcycle. They tumbled into some newspaper stands but were both quick to get back to their feet. Logan cut through a nearby lamp post, and it fell on Rogue.

Taking of his helmet, Logan sniffed the air. "Wait a minute. You're not Sabertooth." He backed off.

Rogue picked up the lamp post and swung it wildly. "Fight me!"

"Now I know you aren't Sabertooth."

The X-Van skidded to a halt between the two mutants. Before the dust cleared, Scott jumped out, hand to his visor.

"Cyclops, no!" Logan shouted, but he was too late. Scott blasted who he thought was Sabertooth down the block into a warehouse.

Surprisingly, Rogue did not loose consciousness, but wandered around the warehouse as Sabertooth, searching for revenge. She climbed up the shelving to get a better look. When Rogue heard Scott call her name, she struggled to regain control. She didn't want to hurt her friend.

"Rogue," he called. "Are you in here? Tell me what's happening. We're here to help you."

Another memory bomb hit. Scott's persona was trying to shove its way to the front of her head. Unconsciously, she shifted into his form, but Scott couldn't help her. She was the one that got Jean and Scott out of messes. Then, when his help was unbidden, like with her and Remy, he made himself obnoxious.

Rogue watched Scott pass below her. "Hey, Bigshot! Better help yourself." She blasted him through a crate using his own powers. "And stay the hell away from mah business and mah boyfriend." Scott never liked Remy, no matter how many times Remy proved that he cared for her. Scott never gave him a chance.

"He never gave me a chance, either," Lance's psyche whispered in her ear. "And it's time for payback." The warehouse shook, toppling shelving units and cracking the foundation.

Rogue saw Logan and Scott fall underneath steal shelving. She didn't mean for that to happen; she didn't want to hurt the X-Men. They were supposed to stop her. Summoning all her strength, Rogue pushed Lance's psyche out of action.

Panting, Rogue desperately grasped the nearest steel pole. "Help meh."

The two X-Men dug themselves out of the boxes. Logan spoke first. "We will, Rogue. Just stay calm."

Scott made the next move, stretching his hand toward her. "We're your friends." Unfortunately, it wasn't a good one.

The word "friend" brought up everything she had gone through with Risty that day. The joy of having her best friend back, the heartache of finding out she wasn't truly her friend, and the pain of knowing Risty was once someone she considered her mother. Added to that were all the suspicious looks around the Institute and arguments with Scott and Kitty. The image of Kitty's tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes when she called Rogue a bitch came to the forefront of her mind.

"I have no friends," Rogue declared as her eyes glowed white and she took to the sky as Storm. She soared into the night sky, relishing the freedom of the wind. Down below, Rogue caught sight of the X-Men, tiny as ants. Why hadn't they stopped her yet? When Jean went crazy, Rogue stopped her. Why couldn't they save her too?

Out of the plethora of voices in her head, one dominated. "They don't want to save you," it said. "You're too dangerous. They can't trust you. You can't trust you." Rogue recognized the voice as her own.

"You must fight! Fight for our survival!" several other psyches shouted. They were pulling her in every direction. Before she knew it, Rogue was blasting laser beams at the X-Men, crashing the Blackbird, and giving Jean some of her own medicine. Kurt bamfed behind her, but she easily escaped his grasp.

Ororo was the first to hit her back, blowing the teenager back with hurricane winds. "Rogue, I'm sorry, but I can't let you hurt any more people." The weather witch held Rogue in a cyclone and hit her with a bolt of lightning.

When Ororo let up, Rogue regained her breath and gave her a taste of her own medicine, threefold. Rogue didn't watch her freefall; the psyches in her head stepped their fighting up a level. Rogue spun around in the air, clutching her head. They were like squabbling children, bickering, pushing, and shoving. All of a sudden something tackled her from behind: a flying Logan. Instinctually, Rogue conjured some wind to soften their fall. They landed on a parked car and rolled off. With the psyches screaming in her mind to fight, Rogue went into survival mode.

Logan backed off when Rogue divided herself into five Rogues. "Rogue, I know what's its like for nothing to make sense in your head. I've been there."

One of the Rogues snorted. Another used Magneto's powers to lift Logan into the air. A third said, "Ya've been here? With no friends, no one ta trust, no one ta touch, and a million people fightin' over ya in your head?"

"You have friends, Rogue. What about the X-Men? What about. . ." Logan ground his teeth, "Gambit?"

"Remy?" The Rogues' faces softened. That was one voice she didn't hear in her head. They looked around. Her boyfriend was no where to be seen. One face grimaced, followed shortly by the other four. "Where's Remy?! What have you done with him? Ya never liked him." Before he could answer, the four that didn't speak stepped forward and blasted Logan down the street. Logan quickly recovered, and the Rogues reinitiated their attack with flying cars, teleportation, and magnetism.

While the Rogues elevated and spun their instructor, Logan tried again to talk her down. "Listen to me, kid. The others inside you, you're letting them push you around. The Rogue I know wouldn't take that offa anybody."

His words made her realize that the X-Men couldn't stop her. She was the only one that could stop the craziness. That wasn't very reassuring, but it gave Rogue a new determination.

To band her resources, Rogue merged her other selves with the original.

"Stand up to them."

Logan's words were powerful. He thought she was stronger, so in her mind she was able to keep some of the psyches at arm's length. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. "Logan, there's too many of them!" She began to fight in the real world like she was fighting in her mind. Then there was something else, much stronger trying to break through her mind. "No. No. No!" she screamed.

**Stop resisting me, Rogue**, projected Professor Xavier, the outside force trying to break into her mind. **Help me. We can wipe those personalities out together, one by one.**

Helpless in any other capacity, Logan cheered her on. "Come on, Rogue. You can do this."

In her mindscape, Xavier appeared, still bald but walking in a suit of armor. Rogue kicked the nearest psyche Cody to him. She threw Kurt next, followed by Arclight. When Xavier slashed down the personas with his astral sword, they disappeared. Each time Rogue felt her head get clearer, but also weaker. Her power was disappearing with each slash of the sword. Soon it was only her and Xavier standing in a barren landscape.

Xavier laid his hand on her shoulder. "Good job, Rogue." The Goth stepped away and held herself in this seemingly foreign land. Rogue's eyes rolled back into her head and she fainted in both the real world and in her mind.

* * *

The Acolytes sat around a table staring at a 3-D model of the some museum in London made from silverware. Remy was surprised they had that much silverware at the base. The boy spent the evening being briefed on tomorrow's mission: Go steal the other half of the "artifact" Remy had stolen from Warren Worthington III.

If Remy was in charge, he would have kept the piece they had had under guard, not sitting in the same room with the man who wanted it. Now they were planning a rush smash-and-grab in another country because Mesmero escaped with the piece. Normally, Remy would have found a roundabout way to tell Magneto his first plan, but since the Piotr fiasco, he hadn't felt the need to cover the old man's ass. Let Magneto's plans fail; maybe he'd learn something someday.

Lightning flashed, practically blinding everyone in the room. Thunder cracked.

Although Magneto was mid-sentence, St. John leapt up and ran to the window. "The weatherman didn't say there'd be thunderstorms tonight!" He knelt at the sill, resting his chin on his folded forearms.

Magneto sighed and pinched his nose. "Meeting adjourned."

Simultaneously, Remy and Piotr slid their chairs back and stood up. They caught each other's eyes and knew they had both planned to join John at the window. They stared for a few seconds before Piotr growled and relented, stomping off to his room. As Remy turned, he thought he saw a smirk on Magneto's lips.

The Cajun shook his head, letting it go. Standing behind John, Remy asked, "How close is de storm?"

John cocked his head. "I don't know. It sounded close, but there's barely a cloud in the sky." The Aussie hopped a little and pointed to the distance. "Oh, but look over there?! That looks like a funnel cloud. We could be in a tornado!"

Remy followed John's finger to what looked like a twister. He frowned. "Dat ain' natural. Dat's de X-Men."

Disappointed, John turned and slouched underneath the window. "They have all the fun."

Another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. After his eyes adjusted, it looked as if someone was flying in the middle of the bolt. Remy's stomach dropped. "Rogue," he whispered. He had no idea if it was her, but something told him that she was in trouble.

The Cajun sprinted to the door only to have it slammed in his face. He glared at the other person in the room besides John. "What is de problem, Monsieur Magneto?"

"You are not going anywhere."

Remy kept his cool. "De briefing is over. Dis is my time."

Magneto collected his papers and put them in a breifcase. "You will not meddle in Xavier's affairs. I don't need you ruining the mission tomorrow."

Remy's eyes glowed. "I'll do what I like wit' my time."

Several kitchens' worth of silverware pinned him to the wall. Magneto stood within spitting distance of his face. "Very well. Have fun tonight." With that, the Master of Magnetism retired.

* * *

Strutting into their boss's trashed office, Malice and Leash took a seat.

Essex transferred some file folders into a moving box. "How was the concert?"

"Lame band, but great finale," Leash reported with a thumbs-up.

"It's done then?" he asked.

Malice picked some lint off her jeans. "The end result's there, but we didn't have to do anything. Mystique did it for us. I can't believe the basketcase went six days without touching a soul. What kind of a life is that?"

"Where's The Rogue now?"

Bangles jingled when Malice waved her hand. "Back with the X-Men." The girl leaned forward. "Hey, how long do you think before we can bring her back into the fold?"

The scientist finally looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Where did this eagerness come from?"

Leash leaned back in her chair. "Boss-man, you didn't see what she could do!"

Even Malice smiled. "She could be a one-woman-army."

Dr. Essex put the top on his box and smiled. "That's exactly what I need."

* * *

Jean and Scott fought in _November Rain_: Chapters 8 to 13, because of the entire Malice fiasco.

They are talking about mutants being exposed to the world in "Day of Reckoning" episodes.

Storm said something to this effect in Chapter 1.

Peter, Susan, Edmond, and Lucy Pevensie were the kids that traveled through the wardrobe to Narnia in C.S. Lewis's _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_.

For mature audiences, check out illwillpress. com. Foamy the Squirrel's Amytiville Toaster toon is the best!

Vietcong and gomer was slang for North Vietnamese in the Vietnam "War". With all those memories being thrown about in Rogue's head, I figured some wartime flashbacks of Sabertooth's would fit in well. Vietnam fit best with my monkey metaphor.

Back in _Nine to Five_: Chapter 8, Rogue had a daydream involving some of these memories.

**Next up**: "Under Lock & Key" and Kitty finds out Piotr's back in town.


	6. Under Lock and Key Uncut

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's. This chapter includes scenes from "Under Lock & Key."

**A/N**: After this, the series will turn away completely from cannon, because the original plot bunnies were born during lag time between "Under Lock & Key" and "Cruise Control".

* * *

**_There is a Light that Never Goes Out_: Chapter Six – Under Lock and Key **

After watching one of their teammates lose her mind the night before, Professor Xavier ordered all of the students to play a game of "no powers" baseball and enjoy the unseasonably warm weather. He even had Amara invite Tabitha over, and Kurt snuck Amanda in.

Scott tried to convince Armel to play, but he only got as far as the bleachers. With his crystalline body, Armel had given up sports long ago. Granted he could now put himself back together without a blowtorch, but he didn't consider balls flying at him as fun.

The game, of course, got out of hand, and Armel was happy he wasn't playing. When Scott took a break from catching, he sat next to the newbie. "You and Tabby seem to be getting along."

Armel shrugged. "I find it amusing that she continues to hit on me after I told her that I'm gay. She doesn't have any standards, does she?"

Slightly embarrassed to be talking about the topic freely, the X-Man blushed. "She does like to have fun."

"She's a slut."

"I wouldn't say that. She's very. . . aggressive."

Armel rolled his eyes. "Whatever. How's Rogue doing?"

Setting down his water bottle, Scott nodded. "Better. She woke up early this morning and talked to Logan before passing out again. Her power surge took a lot out of her."

The crystalline mutant hesitated before asking his next question. "Do they think her treatment at Genesis Medical had something to do with it?"

Scott shrugged. "No one's really sure."

Turning away, Armel mumbled, "I see."

"Are you okay, Armel?"

"I spent more time there than Rogue. Sometimes I wonder if Dr. Essex didn't tinker with me more than he said he did."

Scott put his arm around him. "Do you want Mr. McCoy or Professor Xavier to check you out?"

"No! They're way too old for me."

"I meant for any health concerns."

Pushing Scott away, Armel slid down the bleachers and pretended to be interested in the game. "I know what you meant. I was only joking."

"Well?"

His eyes did not move from the field. "No."

"Why?"

Finally, Armel looked Scott in the eye. "For a few reasons: One, they wouldn't know what to look for. Only Dr. Essex and Dr. Novak do. Two, I've spent more than enough time on hospital cots under fluorescent lighting. It does nothing for my complexion."

With his serious face on, Scott patted Armel's back. "Well, if there's anything I can do, let me know." He stood up, picked up his mitt, and headed back to the game for the next inning.

About halfway through the inning, a shadow fell over the field. An angel descended from the sky and landed on the pitcher's mound. Everyone was in awe. Fearlessly, Scott approached him. "Angel? What's going on?"

"I must see Professor Xavier immediately," said Angel

"Sure." Scott jogged to McCoy. "Mr. McCoy, would you mind taking Angel down to Xavier. Jean and I'll finish the game then join you." They both approached Warren Worthington III, and Scott introduced Henry McCoy.

After Warren and McCoy left the field, everyone rushed Scott with questions. He answered the easy ones, ignored the ridiculous ones, and, when he was fed up, told them to grab their mitts and start playing.

Before resuming his post, Scott took a swig from his water bottle by the bleachers. While he was fending off the other's questions, he noticed Tabby and Armel whispering to each other a few feet outside of the mob. Now Tabby pushed Armel toward Scott.

"Fine!" Armel turned from Tabby to Scott. "You know how you said to let you know if I needed anything?"

Scott swallowed his water. "Yes."

Taking a step closer, Armel whispered, "Can you get me the number of that drop-dead gorgeous angel?" In the background, Tabby grinned and gave him the thumbs-up sign.

Although he addressed Armel, Scott couldn't help staring at Tabby. Something was different about her. She wasn't acting unusual, but Scott felt that there was something off about her. "Uh, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be interested."

Armel sighed. "How come all the hot ones are straight?"

"Scott!" Jean called from the pitcher's mound, knocking him out of his trance.

He trotted to home plate. "Play ball!"

* * *

"Thank you for believing me, Professor," said Warren Worthington while pictures flashed by on the computer screen. "I've had a headache all week trying to work with the police. They won't even consider the story coming from a rich heir like me. They assume I broke the piece in some drug-induced hallucination and am trying to get insurance money."

Jean and Scott entered the room, still smelly and sweaty from the game. The others gave them a wide birth to join them around the computers screen. "What's going on?" Scott asked.

The Professor turned to his students. "Monday night an artifact was stolen from Angel's home. He already identified Magneto and Gambit, but there was a third person that seemed to have instigated the theft, whom Magneto took prisoner." The computer beeped, alerting the X-Men that it had completed the search and found several matches. Jean gasped. The first photograph on screen was a bald man in a cloak with red eyes, a crooked nose, and green tattoos all over his face.

Warren's wings fluttered. "That's him."

The Professor showed no surprise in the search results. "Are you sure this is the man you saw?"

"It's not a face you forget, Professor," answered Warren.

"You were right to come here, Warren. We've had dealings with Mesmero before," replied Xavier.

Warren glanced at Xavier whose gaze was fixed on the computer screen. "Why use someone else to break in?" the billionaire asked.

"Because that's what he does. He manipulates others, just as he did with Jean to steal those rings," answered Xavier.

At the keyboard, McCoy brought up the research he had been doing on the rings Jean and the others stole. "We've now been able to determine that the rings work together to form some kind of key." With lightning fast stokes, a rod appeared on the screen and slid through the rings. The screen cleared and Warren's artifact popped up next, soon to be joined by another piece of green rock. "The other half of Warren's stolen spider stone in is a London Museum. When put together they complete the spider."

"And that spider stone might well do the same," the Professor added.

Warren was surprised about how much the X-Men already knew. "A key to what?"

Frustration showed through Xavier's voice. "I don't know. But with Magneto now involved I feel it imperative to secure the other half before he does." He raised his eyebrow to the others.

Everyone turned around when a new voice entered the conversation. "Absolutely," said Bobby as he strutted forward. "Let's gear up and take care of business, X-Men-style."

Laying a reassuring hand on Bobby's shoulder, McCoy chuckled. "Sorry, Hotshot. There's no room on the team for members who don't follow the rules."

Jean did the same as she and Scott passed. "Yeah, like icing a bat during a 'no powers' softball game."

Bobby tried to show his maturity, but it was hard to swallow with his voice cracking. "But I was just goofing off. I'd totally keep it in check for a full-on mission, really." Defeated, Bobby's arms dropped. "Oh, come on. Just, just give me one chance," he pleaded to an empty room.

* * *

Down in the med lab, Rogue clutched her pillow. The fluorescent lights stung her eyes and drained her energy. Not that there was any reason to be awake. A few of the X-Men filed in and out of the room throughout the day, but their visits were short and awkward. Everyone was searching for signs that Rogue might freak out again. Every time she moved, they flinched. After Essex, Rogue lost their trust. Now they were all afraid of her. She truly had no friends at Xavier's.

A familiar bamf sound filled the room. "Up for dinner?"

Rogue recoiled when the smell of brimstone touched her nose. "Kurt?!"

The demon wearing the image inducer shoved a tray of unidentifiable tan and red lumps in her face. "Spicy enchiladas and black beans covered in Kitty's special sauce."

Leaning as far back as possible from the tray, Rogue pulled up the sheet to her chin. "Ugh, it's not enough mah head hurts, ya want meh ta toss mah stomach too?" She brushed her hair behind her ear. "Where's Logan?" she said shyly.

Still holding onto the tray, Kurt sat down and replied cheerfully, "He and Storm are out trying to track down our loving mother, and the others jetted off to London, so Kitty and I are your caretakers." He put the spoon he had been branishing to use scooping up some beige mush. "Have a bite."

Rogue turned away, gripping her bedding even tighter. "Go away!" She knew that soon Kurt's friendly demeanor would fade. He was only taking care of her because no one else was there to do it. She was an obligation to him, not a friend.

Kurt rolled off her demand with a chuckle. "Is that anyway to treat your little brother?"

The bed began to rise. Glaring at the boy with the bed remote in his hands, Rogue spat, "We're not related." She clutched her knees.

At the second mention of Mystique, Rogue's blood boiled. There wasn't anyone in the world she hated more than Raven Darkholme. At one time Rogue didn't think anyone could knock Paris Hilton off the top of her list. She couldn't believe that someone she once called "Mama" and Mystique was the same woman. Her "Mama" was not a conniving, untrustworthy, criminal mastermind, was she?

Undaunted, Kurt raised an eyebrow and continued to mess with the bed. "Now that just denial talking."

In truth, Rogue had moved long past denial. In her head, the only memories left were her own and "Mama" was clearly there, erasing any doubt. Unfortunately, that didn't make accepting it any easier.

The goth snatched the bed remote from Kurt's disguised three-fingered hand. The bed reclined. Her annoying "little brother" needed to leave and leave quickly. She rather be alone than with false friends. She had to say something to make him leave. "Mystique may have given birth to you, but she only adopted meh." Rogue remembered when she felt sorry for the shapeshifter when she dreamt of the night Mystique lost Kurt (1). All that sympathy died at the concert.

Losing the tray, Kurt stood up and walked to the end of the cot. "Either way, Sis, we're in this together. I mean it, Rogue. Whatever you're going through, I'm here for you, okay?"

With her arms crossed and a glare on her face, the stubborn Rogue only sighed and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she did have family at the Institute. Kurt wasn't giving up on her. There was a silver-lining to this whole ordeal: She gained a loyal, forgiving brother. That was stronger than friendship.

Kurt took her silence as encouragement. "Now sit tight. I'll have Kitty make you an anchovy and jalapeño pizza instead."

One corner of Rogue's mouth turned up to a smile. It was certainly weird and dysfunctional, but a family nonetheless.

A little over an hour later, Rogue's stomach growled. Thankfully, two petite feet descended into the lab from the ceiling just in time. "Hi, ya, Rogue!" Kitty chirped when her head came through. After solidifying, Kitty placed a plate with steaming pieces of pizza on a tray. Rogue took one sniff and backed away. Kitty's face fell. "What's wrong?"

Confused, Rogue said, "It actually smells good."

The cook let out an elated squeal. "It's my new Greek pizza. It's got feta cheese, olives, spinach, and a whole bunch more yummy veggies. Kurt wanted me to make something with anchovies, yuck. I can't believe he expected me to touch slimy little fish. Then I finish my, like, beautiful creation, and he wants to bamf it down here! Nothing tastes good after he bamfs it somewhere. I still say that my enchiladas didn't smell like that before he teleported. They were _good_."

"Sure." Rogue eyed the pizza suspiciously. "Is Kurt comin' down?"

She shook her head. "I, like, needed him out of my hair so I called Amanda for him." Watching anxiously, Kitty sat down Indian-style at the foot of the bed. "Well? Aren't you going to try it?"

"Ah'm worried it might attack meh or something." A fork poked the pizza. It didn't pop, ooze off the plate, or let out a scream.

Kitty's voice had a tinge of pain mixed with the sarcasm. "Thanks for your vote of confidence."

Rogue continued to inspect her food at a safe distance. "Last week, didn't Scott get a flat tire when Bobby and Ray put a piece of your apple pie under the tire?"

"I still say Bobby iced a tack and blamed my pie!"

"There's an awful lot of conspiracy surroundin' your food." Rogue poked the pizza again. After taking a deep breath, Rogue speared a bite-size piece. Centimeters from her mouth, the lights flashed on and off and the emergency lights came on. The fork dropped to the plate. "What was that?"

Kitty shrugged. "The boys probably blew a breaker trying to hook up all their gaming systems or something." She leaned toward Rogue and relaxed her chin on her fists.

"What are ya lookin' at?" Rogue asked.

"_Please_ try it," Kitty begged.

The goth sighed and recovered the fork. Rogue's expression was at first delightful, then, after much chewing, her nose scrunched up.

Crestfallen, Kitty asked, "What's wrong with it?"

Rogue pulled something small, brown, and hard from her mouth.

The cook's face reddened. "Oops, I thought I got all of that out of there."

Eyes widened and Rogue pushed the tray as far away as she could.

"Now come on. I only missed one piece. It was good besides that!"

Her stomach growled, but Rogue ignored it and the plate of pizza.

After a few minutes of silent glares, Kitty finally relented. "Fine," she groaned, defeated. "Honey Nut Cheerios okay?"

Rogue relaxed and nodded. "Bring the milk down too. Ah'll pour it mahself."

"You're mean," Kitty growled before she ascended through the fluorescent lights. She returned a few minutes later balancing a bowl, spoon, a giant box of cereal, and a gallon of milk. As Rogue prepared her meal, Kitty took the pizza and started munching. Every few minutes, Kitty's face would wrinkle, and she's spit inconspicuously. Rogue couldn't help but chuckle every time. It made each spoonful of cereal more enjoyable.

Eventually, Kitty gave up and set down the plate. "Rogue, can I ask you something?"

Expecting the worse accusations, Rogue set down her bowl and swirled the remaining o's. "Shoot," she whispered.

"I've read you some of Piotr's letters, right?"

Rogue breathed a small sigh of relief. It wasn't about her at all. It was about Piotr's letters. "Ah could probably recite the first one in all its twenty page glory." Rogue's relief didn't last long. This conversation was about Kitty's boyfriend Piotr who hadn't called her yet after being back in town for at least three days. Information which Rogue neglected to tell Kitty, not wanting to get involved or to see Kitty hurt. Rogue could see this blowing up in her face soon, but couldn't say it outright. Instead she played dumb and acted relaxed.

"It wasn't twenty pages," Kitty retorted.

"Okay, eighteen."

"Whatever." The brunette rolled her eyes before continuing shyly. "Anyway, I don't know if I'm reading too much into it, but the letter I got today feels different." She paused, but Rogue didn't ask any questions, only waited for her to continue. "He sounds upset, but he doesn't say anything about it in the letter."

"How can a letter sound upset?"

Kitty brushed her bangs behind her ears. "It's the way he writes - the words he uses and even his penmanship is different. The last couple letters he had a very light mark, but this time it's dark. He poked a hole in the paper in one spot."

"So he got a new pencil," Rogue said in a feeble attempt to relieve Kitty's worry and cover up her own. Remy told her that he couldn't count on Piotr to cover for him. Maybe he's upset with Remy. But what could have happened a week ago in Russia to make Piotr mad at Remy?

"There's something else. In the other letters he mentioned looking for his brother or revisiting some place they used to romp, but this time there was nothing. It was like he never existed."

After putting aside her bowl, Rogue held out her hand. Maybe there was something in the letter that Kitty was missing. "Okay, give it ta meh."

Kitty stuttered and blushed. "I, I, I don't have it on me. . ."

Knowing Kitty, there was no way she would walk around without the letters on her. The girl practically needed them to breath. "Liar," accused Rogue.

She blushed more before turning around. Her shirt rustled and Kitty turned back around with a wad of paper in her hand.

Rogue hesitated to take it. "Ah have a feelin' Ah'm gonna regret askin' ya this, but why there?"

With her head tilted to the mattress, Kitty mumbled something incoherently.

"What?" Rogue asked again.

Kitty's blue eyes avoided Rogue's gaze. "You're gonna laugh at me."

"Probably." A swift kick connected to Rogue's leg.

"Promise not to laugh?" Kitty asked.

"Promise not ta kick meh?" Rogue spat, rubbing her shin.

"Only if you don't laugh."

Rogue tossed scenarios around in her head and replied honestly. "Ah'll try."

"That's the best I'm gonna get, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"Okay, I wanted to keep the letter close to my heart so that when -" The bed began to shake, so Kitty looked up. Rogue's body shuttered, and she bit her lip. Kitty only glared.

A few moments later, Rogue managed to calm down. "Ah don't think it's a good idea ta tell meh the rest."

"Would you read the letter already?" Kitty exclaimed with a red face.

"It's still warm," Rogue teased. A pillow smacked the side of Rogue's head. The abuse was not appreciated. Rogue lost the humor in her voice. "Ya want meh ta read this or not? Ah'm pretty sure Ah can wallop ya in a pillow fight."

Kitty was humbled. "Read it, please."

Aside from the regular beep from the medical equipment, the room was silent. When Rogue finished reading, she dropped the last page onto her lap. Kitty was right: Something here wasn't making sense.

Kitty thought this was about Piotr's brother who was kidnapped by the government (2), but Remy didn't have anything to do with that. Or did he? Rogue's stomach dropped. Piotr's brother disappeared around the time Remy was working for Essex. Did Genesis Medical have something to do with the kidnapping? From what she knew of the business, there were two things that could have happened to Piotr's brother and neither were good. He became a Marauder or he became an experiment.

There was no proof to back up Rogue's theory. It could be something less dire. Maybe Remy said the wrong thing when Piotr came back, and Piotr focused his anger at not finding his brother on Remy. That was plausible. Unfortunately, Rogue's gut disagreed.

Rogue felt Kitty's eyes burn into her. Her friend wanted her opinion, but she couldn't go around speculating. Especially if that speculation put her boyfriend in a worse light than the X-Men already shown on him. Big pieces of the puzzle were missing, until she knew what the were, there was no point in bringing Kitty's big mouth into it. She met her friend's eyes. "Ya're right. He does sound different."

"What should I do, Rogue? He's halfway across the world, and I can't talk to him. I can't call or email him. If I send a letter, it won't get to him before he's back here. Do they still have telegrams?" The lights in the room flashed again.

The guilt of knowing Piotr's true whereabouts weighed on Rogue, pushing her one step closer to spilling it. "Slow down, Kit. Ya're jumpin' ahead of yourself. Ya don't even know if he _wants_ ta talk about it." Rogue applauded herself on her bullshit. That could really be the reason he hasn't called.

Kitty's eyes were wide and confused. "Why wouldn't he?"

This was a topic Rogue knew about. Her tone had a mix of confidence and empathy for her friend. "Not everyone's like you. They don't like flashing around how hurt they are."

A fist slammed the thin mattress. "I know that! There are people like you that you have to, like, pry open with a crowbar."

"Yeah, and when Ah don't want ta talk about it, ya know not ta pressure meh into it." The lights stayed off for a few seconds longer than before. "Those damn boys upstairs better knock it off!"

Kitty didn't notice the blackout. "But. . .but. . . he's my boyfriend. I'm supposed to be there for him."

"Then call him," Rogue said before she could catch herself. She winced, but Kitty didn't notice.

"His phone doesn't work where he is," Kitty whined.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Rogue leaned back on her pillow. "Then wait for him ta call ya."

"All right. I guess I can wait a few more days." She paused, then fell onto her stomach on the bed. Kitty snatched a page of the letter from Rogue's lap. "But he's been going through this alone for over a week now!"

"He's wasn't alone. He had his family." The lights were flashing in a regular pattern now. The two grew used to it, like most of the other bizarre happenings that come with living in a house with teenage mutants.

"I guess." Kitty gathered up the other pages and stared at them as if they were going to give her the answer she needed. "I just wish I could be there for him, you know?"

"Ya will be. Ah'm sure he'll call soon." _He'd better or Ah'll have ta hurt him._

"Not until Monday," Kitty groaned. She put away her letter and became chipper again. "Hey, where's Remy? With Mr. Logan gone, I figured he'd be down here by now."

It was not Rogue's turn to feel solemn. "I left him a message, but there was some big, last-minute mission tonight."

"That's gotta be rough with two men short."

With her eyes darting every which way except at Kitty, Rogue hesitated to reply. "Yeah. . ."

Apparently, a new awareness came with Kitty's chipper attitude. "What was that look about?"

Rogue continued to avoid Kitty's eyes. Her milky spoon was much more interesting than before. "Nothin'."

Kitty phased the spoon out of the goth's hands and brandished it at her. "I thought we said we weren't going to keep things from each other anymore! I thought you were going to _try_!"

"Ah am!" Rogue shouted before calming down. It was her fault and she deserved to be treated this way. Her voice was soft in an attempt to calm down Kitty. "Ah just know this will upset ya, and Ah don't want ta see ya hurt." Finally, jade eyes met blue filled with fury.

"Oh, really?! Because I'm pretty sure having friends keep me in the dark doesn't hurt at all!" Kitty shot from the bed and stomped to the door.

"Ah was hopin' he'd call, and then ya'd know and Ah wouldn't have ta do anything."

Stopping at the doorway, Kitty looked back at Rogue. "Who? Remy?"

Rogue paused before replying. She could easily lie and avoid the tears, but she had made a promise to Kitty. "No."

"Who, then? Who was going to call?"

"Piotr." The word was out, but that didn't lift the guilt Rogue felt.

"You know why he's upset in his letter?! You let me rattle on and on and you already knew!" Kitty put her hands on her hips and attempted a southern accent. "Oh, I'll let her wait until he comes home, and maybe he'll tell her himself. It's too much work to give her a heads up."

A pillow bashed Rogue in the head again. She snatched it from the valley girl and chucked it across the room where it knocked over a pile of papers. Her eyes shot daggers. "No! Petey's back from Russia."

Kitty's mood did a complete 360. Instead of being furious, her arms dropped to her side and she tilted her head in confusion. "What?! When!?"

The abrupt change in Kitty's mood calmed Rogue down as well. "Uh, Wednesday."

"Oh." Kitty sat down on the corner of the cot and stared at the floor.

Carefully, Rogue rubbed Kitty's covered back, trying her best to comfort her roommate. "Magneto's had them in lock-down since he got back. Ah'm sure that's why he couldn't call, Sugah."

Her gaze didn't left the floor. "Remy managed to talk to you."

"But Remy's. . . well, Remy."

Kitty's shoulder's slumped, defeated. "You mean he gives a damn about you."

"No, Ah mean he lives ta break the rules. He loves the thrill of knowin' he won't get caught. Piotr is a pretty straight-laced guy."

Looking up, Kitty showed Rogue her hurt in her expression. "If he cared, it wouldn't matter."

Sulfur smoke filled the room. "Hello!" Kurt announced. No one returned his greeting. "Why all the glum faces?"

"Nothing," they replied and sooted away from each other.

The fuzzy elf was so cheery, their sad faces didn't bring him down. "Amanda's good. She's going to try and come over tomorrow. Her parents are going to some fancy luncheon in the city, so she won't even have to sneak out." No one commented. To break the silence, Kurt made small talk. "What's with all the lights?"

* * *

It was nearly eleven Greenwich Mean Time when four silver orbs and a man in a funny cape landed on a roof across from a London museum. The orbs opened revealing Sabertooth, Pyro, Colossuss, and Gambit. Once his sphere opened, Sabertooth charged the edge of the roof and jumped off. Magneto gently floated to the alley below while the remaining three headed to the fire escape.

"Would it be too much work for the boss to drop us off on the street, then leave his balls on the roof?" St. John complained as he worked his way down the rooftop ladder.

Both Remy and Piotr reached for the ladder at the same time. Piotr glared and shoved his way down first. Remy rolled his eyes and followed allowing a safe distance between him and the metal giant.

The Cajun jumped to the third floor platform. "Be glad t'ere's only t'ree stories today."

On the second story steps, Piotr said, "Exercise is good and warms our muscles for the mission."

"Maybe that's good for you guys, but I don't use my muscles. I shoot fire at people, cackle, and occasionally roast marshmallows." Hanging on the last rung, John jumped to the ground, landing on his backside.

Piotr landed on his feet next to the pyromaniac. He held out his hand. "It is important that one is fit for health and activity. If you would like, I could help you make a training regiment."

With the grace of a cat, Remy landed and stepped between the two. "Johnny-boy trains wit' me."

"Yes, and he has learned great coordination and strength." They both glanced at John who was walking around in circles trying to see beyond his fuel tanks to any remaining dirt on his butt. He stubbed his toe on a dumpster and hopped around on one foot.

Whipping his head back to Piotr, Remy's eyes glowed. "You don' know de first t'ing 'bout trainin' somebody else."

Piotr towered over the Cajun. "I have never tried. Perhaps I am better than you."

A cape fluttered at the end of the alley. "Hurry up, boys. This is not a vacation."

Piotr took the lead behind Magneto and Sabertooth followed by St. John and Remy. As per the plan, they walked up the front steps to the museum with Remy knocking out the exterior cameras. The boys split formation and Magneto forcefully opened the doors.

"Fan out. Secure the building," ordered Magneto.

Everyone split up. While the other three were to take out the guards on patrol, it was Remy's job to check the bathrooms and the break room. They didn't want another shooting experience like they had in Florida (3). The public restrooms on the first floor were locked so he headed to the break room. Jackpot, one guard was playing a lousy game of Klondike.

The thief placed one foot inside the door when the alarm sounded. One of the others must have triggered something. Remy hid in the shadows of the hallway, waiting for the guard's reaction.

The guard scrutinized the blinking red light. Without dropping his card, he pulled out his radio. "Will someone check out the glitch in the alarm system? I'm on break."

Charging a card, Remy tossed it onto the table. He waltzed into the room and stood across the table with his bo staff over his shoulders. "Need an ace of clubs, Monsieur?"

The man gasped. He was too surprised to react, and the explosion blew him over his chair into the closet doors.

As the man tried to stand on rubber legs, a bo staff pushed him into the closet and shut the door. "Hey!" the guard exclaimed. Remy used his staff to move a chair underneath the door handles. "Hey, let me out," the guard called again.

On his way out to check the other floors for strays, Remy couldn't help but stop and move the five of hearts to the six of spades.

Midway through the third floor, Remy heard roaring and laser beams coming from the large entryway. He ran out to the balcony and saw an ice column stretching from the skylight to the main floor. Without hesitation he was on he main floor regrouping with Sabertooth, Colossus, and Pyro.

"Well, lookie, we got X-Men!" John exclaimed.

Pulling out two cards from his jacket, Remy smirked. "I t'ink dey want to play." The cards left his hands and headed toward Angel. "Sabertooth, Beast, Pyro, Jean, Colossus, Cyclops. I got Angel" Remy ordered.

"What about me?" Bobby squealed.

Throwing a cover fire of cards, Remy launched himself into the air with his bo staff and kicked Bobby in the chest. The junior X-Man flew halfway up the stairs. "Feel better now, Ice Boy?" Bobby groaned and rolled over.

Remy turned his attention back to Warren. Racking his brain for Warren's profile, he remembered that the billionaire wasn't much of a hand-fighter. Remy needed to get the mutant closer to the ground so he could attack him physically. He threw more cards at the flyer, hoping to scare him within vaulting distance. The plan backfired when Angel redirected the cards at him instead. Remy leapt for cover and saw how the others were fairing.

Piotr was still on Cyclops, matching blow for blow. On the plus side, both Sabertooth and John were trying to knock Beast down, so Remy assumed Jean had gone down. Unfortunately, Iceman was back in the game, blocking Sabertooth's attack on Beast.

"Like I said, Iceman's got your back," Bobby boasted to McCoy.

Jean flew in from no where. "Beast, tuck and roll."

In an instant, Beast was in position. "Let 'er fly." The blue mutant landed perfectly on Sabertooth's chest, knocking him out of the game.

Running to John, Remy threw some more cards at Angel. "Pyro, you're on Angel now. Stick wit' him until he's out this time."

"It wasn't my fault! The circus show was hopping on people's heads. You know how I feel about that!"

"Just do it!" Angel closed in, so Remy gripped his staff like a baseball bat and took a swing. He missed, but Pyro followed orders and sent a flying fire demon after the X-Man.

"You were the last boy picked for the baseball at recess, weren't you, Gambit?" joked John.

"Pay attention!" Remy ordered as Iceman slid past a laughing John, icing John's flame-throwers. John tried to shake the ice off, but only succeeded in falling on his bottom.

Shaking his head, Remy charged some cards and broke off Iceman's support column. The X-Men tumbled to the ground, but Angel dove and caught him a few feet from the ground. A kick from Remy caught Angel off balance and sent the two X-Men into a small gallery of armor. There was a loud crash inside the room then an explosion at the entryway as Remy sealed them in.

Sabertooth was up again and tossing Cyclops around like a rag doll. Colossus was faltering under a combined attack from Jean and Beast, but Remy knew he could hold out a while longer. The Cajun ran over to John and helped him bust out of his icy braces.

The two Acolytes ran over to help Colossus fend off the two X-Men. "Need help, mon ami?" Remy bantered, completely forgetting they were at odds with each other.

"I am not your 'mon ami'!" Colossus shoved Remy out of his way. Unfortunately for him, the piece of rubble headed for Cajun hit him instead. Fighting continued like this until the boys got word from Magneto to meet outside.

He barely briefed them on the situation, but the Acolytes were used to that. Pointing to a giant green glowing creature heading for the Thames, Magneto ordered, "I don't care what it takes. Destroy that spider!"

On their way out, the boys ran past Xavier. "Magnus, stop. We don't know anything about it."

Magneto waved his arms around in a dramatic fashion. "I know enough. That's one key that won't be unlocking any doors."

After the boys spotted the giant transparent arachnid, Remy gathered them into a huddle and proposed a plan.

Colossus crossed his arms. "No, it will not work. I can catch the spider myself." The Russian ran after the monster.

"Don't be stupid!" Remy called fruitlessly after him. "We don' know anythin' 'bout its defenses."

Sabertooth was the next to leave. "Tin can's got the idea; I work better alone."

Sighing, Remy massaged the bridge of his nose. "What 'bout you, John-boy?"

"I come from a country chopped full of itty-bitty spiders that can kill you. There's no way I'm going up against that thing alone."

Remy smiled and slapped his friend on the back then pointed south. "Good. I'm gonna stand on dat building t'ere. You herd it down one of t'ose streets, then toast it. If it's still around, it's my turn."

The pyromaniac nodded and followed orders. He didn't have to do much herding, and, after Sabertooth was clear, he lit up the street surrounding the mysterious green creature. "Yea! Barbeque spider. Specialty of the house." After what John thought was a significant amount of time to make a well done spider, he extinguished the fire. When the smoke cleared, there was nothing but broken asphalt. "Huh?" The earth began to shake. "It's gone down under (4)." The pavement broke up under St. John's feet, and he jumped out of way.

"It's headin' toward de river. Meet you on de bridge," Remy called down to John. On the way to the rendezvous, Remy was almost run over by a garbage truck. John ran up beside him, panting.

Remy pointed to the large vehicle on the bridge. "Pyro, t'ink you can stop dat truck wit'out blowin' it up?"

The Australian shrugged. "First time for everything." A large fire gingerbread-man flew in front of the truck. The driver swerved to miss the creature and ran the truck off the bridge.

As the truck sank, Remy glared at the out of breath mutant. "What?" John pointed to river. "I didn't blow it up, did I?"

Remy opened his mouth to rip John a new one, when he saw a double-decker bus driving along the Thames. He grabbed John's arm and ran across. "Try again except kept it drivable."

His turquoise eyes lit up. "Can I drive it?"

"No, now stop it."

"Easy." Pyro strode out into the middle of the street waving his eyes about. The bus swerved and stopped. St. John sprinted on the bus filled with tourists. "The Queen, the Queen. She's out for a midnight stroll! She went that way!" John pointed frantically. "You'd better get off if you want to see her!"

The tourists rushed the exits, but the tour guide stepped forward. "The Queen isn't even in town."

Remy entered the bus behind a blustering St. John. The tourists gasped when they saw his eyes. "Get off de bus!" He threw a card and blew up the back door of the double-decker. Everyone screamed and ran. Remy settled down in the vacant driver's seat.

"I almost had them off. Goddamn the Queen. She ruined my fun," John mumbled in the doorway.

A green glow and explosions the street told Remy he didn't have much time. "Sorry, mon ami. Everybody off." Remy kicked the pyromaniac out the door. The double-decker burned rubber to head off the glowing spider.

When Remy caught sight of the creature, he said, "Been waitin' for you." He played chicken with the creature, then overturned the bus with a sharp turn. He leapt from the bus as it crushed the spider beneath it. Running to the vehicle, Remy placed his hands on it, charging it. Once he was clear, the bus exploded.

Burning rubble fell around the Cajun. "I do believe dat slowed it down."

Descending from the sky, Magneto surprised Remy as he passed. "Just long enough," he growled.

Hearing his cue, the spider rose unsteadily from the bonfire. It hissed at the metal manipulating mutant. Unintimidated Magneto placed his hand between its eyes and concentrated.

The X-Men arrived just in time to watch the spider's destruction. Xavier rolled forward. "Don't do it, Magnus. Do not destroy it!"

Magneto raised his other hand. His voice showed his struggle. "I must." The spider realized his danger and tried to escape, but it was too late. It was pulled back into the stone which gave birth to it. Magneto fell to his knees. The stone lay on the pavement, whole and lifeless.

Piotr had caught up to the group during the spider's destruction, and now walked to his leader to lend him a hand.

Likewise, Xavier rolled to Magneto's other side. "You've done the very thing Mesmero wanted."

"No." Magneto reluctantly accepted Piotr's help, but shoved him away once he was on his feet. "The key has been destroyed."

The cripple pointed to his old foolish friend. "And he knew only you had the power to do it. That wasn't just a key; it was a guardian, designed to prevent Apocalypse's release. And with it's destruction, the second door will now open. He used you, Magnus. From the beginning."

Magneto growled. "If you knew so much, why didn't you stop this from happening, Charles?! This is why you're a horrible poker player. You can have the best cards in your hand, but refuse to act until you know every card in play."

"I tried to warn you, Erik, but you wouldn't listen."

"You said don't destroy it. You never told me why."

"You wouldn't have listened."

"I guess we'll never know."

Sick of the childish bickering, Warren walked away from the group and pointed. "It was heading directly southeast (5)."

McCoy came up beside him. "But where was it going?" They stood in reflective silence until McCoy leaned over and whispered, "For future reference southeast is more that way. It was heading south."

Warren sneered at being corrected and headed back to the group where Magneto and Xavier were still arguing.

"So what else about Apocalypse do you know? I bet you have a home address already. Your man already knows it was going south. So where is he?" accused Magneto.

The telepath shook his head and looked to the fire. "I don't know, but it is in our best interest to find out, because when Mesmero finds the third and final key, the world as we know it will change forever."

* * *

(1) Rogue had nightmares from Mystique's memories back in the _X-Men: Evolution_ episode "Shadowed Past". Those nightmares led to Kurt finding out who his biological mother was.

(2) We learned about Piotr's brother in _November Rain_: Chapter 3.

(3) In _November Rain_: Chapter 22 and 23, St. John was shot by a security guard hiding in the bathroom.

(4) The WORST line in the series.

(5) I still don't get the point of this line in the episode. Especially since Tibet is NOT directly southeast of London. Get out a map guys! Anyway, I'm not following the "Apocalypse was imprisoned in Tibet" thing anyway, so the spider wasn't going "directly southeast" in my version.

**Next up:** The strike team to fight the Apocalypse is formed and not everyone is happy about it.

**A/N**: I'll make you a deal. I'll upload the next chapter on Tuesday, September 30, or after I get 10 new reviews. You have the power!


	7. Get On Board

**A/N**: Even with a reward of a earlier update, I only got four reviews :( -shrugs- What can you do?

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_**There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Seven – Get On Board**

Sirens approached the ensemble of X-Men and Acolytes in London's South Bank. Magneto pulled available metal from the surroundings and formed four traveling spheres.

St. John trudged to a sphere. "I didn't even get to see the Queen. Why'd she have to be on vacation?" he whined. Piotr gave him a reassuring pat on the back.

"Magnus," Xavier called sharply. "You are now involved in this Apocalypse mystery, as are we-"

"I know, Charles," Magneto snapped. "I intend to use all my power to prevent Apocalypse from ever being released and stop him if he is." He turned and lifted himself from the ground.

"Where do you plan to start?"

Magneto paused but did not answer. The sirens grew louder. Scott stepped behind Xavier. "Uh, Professor..."

Xavier ignored him and continued talking to Erik. "Us both searching separately for the Apocalypse is a waste of resources and time, which I'm not sure that we have. I propose that we work together to discover this looming threat."

"I do not need help."

"You don't know that. The truth is that neither of us know what the Apocalypse is. It could be a band of outlaws, witches, aliens, a plague -"

Magneto landed two feet on the ground and towered over Xavier. "He is an ancient powerful mutant. Mastermind was able to divulge that from Mesmero."

Xavier chose his words carefully. "Are you sure that isn't what Mesmero wanted you to think?"

If there was one thing Magneto hated, it was being made a fool. The last thing he wanted was for Mesmero to get the better of him again. "What do you propose?" Magneto asked, genuinely interested.

A police car turned down the street they were congregating on. Xavier nodded to the approaching authorities. "Let's discuss this further in a less public location, shall we?"

With arms outstretched, Magneto melted the travel spheres and created one large disc for everyone to stand on. He lifted both teams across the Thames to the rooftop garage where the Velocity was parked.

Once they landed, Magneto crossed his arms. "Well, Charles?"

Nervous that Magneto would again become temperamental and refuse his proposal, Xavier talked fast. "We should combine our forces to learn all we can about this Apocalypse. The only thing we know for sure is that it is very powerful - powerful enough to be locked away because it couldn't be destroyed. We may already be too late to stop Mesmero from locating the third key. We need to learn all we can about this Apocalypse in case we need to eliminate it."

His old friend raised an eyebrow. "'Eliminate', Charles? That doesn't sound like you. Are you sure you don't mean, 'buy it a nice fruit basket'?" A few of the Acolytes snickered behind him.

"There was a reason the Apocalypse was locked away. The manner which Mesmero is using to allocate these keys makes me fear the worst."

Magneto rubbed his chin. "If I agree to this coalition, I must be sure that we are on the same page. If Apocalypse were to appear before us now, are you prepared to sacrifice the lives of your students to stop him?"

The X-Men's eyes were wide, awaiting their mentor's response. Xavier took a deep breath and defended his argument. "If the Apocalypse doesn't accept our first offer of peaceful negotiation and my students are aware of the risks, then yes."

"Those are a lot of 'ifs', Charles."

"It is my only offer, Erik."

Magneto sighed and extended his hand to his old friend. "Very well, you have a deal."

Xavier took it. "I offer my school as a headquarters. It can accommodate everyone and has the best training facilities."

"Especially since Petey and Remy wrecked ours," John added.

"Hey, not all t'ose burn marks are mine!" Remy objected.

"Agreed." Magneto nodded to the Acolytes behind him. "Get on board."

Professor Xavier wheeled himself onto the helicopter ramp. Jean ran to catch up. "Professor?" she whispered.

Without looking at her, Xavier replied. "Yes, Jean. I sense your concern, but if my intuitions are correct, we will need everyone willing to fight. I assure you that this will be a voluntary project. Any one who desires will have the choice to abstain."

Jean stopped walking. "For the X-Men, it won't be viewed as a choice. I don't think they'll understand the real dangers or feel comfortable saying no."

Rolling from the Velocity, Xavier met Jean. "Then we will have to do our best to make sure they understand." Xavier saw Jean take a breath to support her argument, but Xavier cut in. "Jean, I don't see any other options. Now please get on board. The helicopters are coming this way." The redhead sighed and boarded the craft.

The helicopters were easily evaded in Velocity with added assistance from Magneto. Aside from whispers between the X-Men, the ride was quiet: Piotr and Remy weren't speaking, Sabertooth was busy smelling everything, and the X-Men didn't trust their new allies sitting across from them.

John tried to break the ice by poking Angel. "Do you ever feel like a walking cliché? With the golden hair and the white feathers and ruggedly handsome chin?"

"No."

"Huh. Did you ever think about dying your feathers? Oh! You could get big eyes painted on them like moths so the birds don't mess with you."

"Birds don't mess with the X-Men," Bobby bragged.

John threw his arms in the air. "Of course not now! But when a blonde slut buys him a pair of lovebirds and stalks him, watch out (1)." John's eyes widened, and he turned to Warren. "You're not dating a blonde right now, are you?"

"Uh. No."

Wiping his brow, John breathed a sigh of relief. "Good."

Bobby leaned over. "Has anyone ever told you that you are completely mental?"

"Yeah, hundreds of times. How about you?"

Bobby snorted and mumbled incoherently. John tried to start up another conversation with the X-Men about squirrels, but since hiring St. John, Magneto had heard enough about squirrels to last him a lifetime. "Shut up, Pyro," he barked. John slumped in his seat and whispered to Piotr and Remy on either side of him.

The Velocity shuddered when they landed on the street in front of the Brotherhood house. Although it was late, there were lights on. Magneto sent Piotr in to fetch the boys and Wanda. A few minutes later, the Russian returned alone.

"Where are they?" Magneto boomed.

Piotr shrugged. "They did not want to come. They thought it was a joke."

Flipping his cape, Magneto marched into the house with Xavier at his heels. The boys were playing Texas Hold-em with stale Apple Jacks. Although Fred was winning, he had the least amount of Apple Jacks.

Magneto overturned the table. "You're being relocated to Xavier's school to prepare for the Apocalypse. Get your personal affects."

The four boys remained seated with wide eyes and open mouths.

Professor Xavier placed a hand on Magneto's arm. "Erik, I insist that their participation be voluntary. This is a life-risking operation."

Magneto sighed. "Very well." He turned to the boys. "If you would like to help keep the earth around a little longer, get on the helicopter. If you'd rather watch the _world's end_ rotting away in this house, stay."

Confused, Todd asked, "You're gonna give us a _Pirates of the Caribbean _movie?"

"He'd have to get us a new DVD player too. Wanda trashed the last one," Lance added.

"I'm not talking about a movie, you-" Magneto turned to Xavier. "Do you really think we will benefit from their help?"

"We'll need everyone we who's willing to put their lives on the line."

Magneto added, "For those who are staying, let it be known that I will no longer be supplying a food and maintenance allowance."

"Erik!" Xavier scolded.

Lance raised an eyebrow. "What allowance?" All eyes turned to Pietro.

The speed demon shot out of his seat. "A suicide mission sounds good to me." He ran to his room, then boarded the helicopter.

Lance slowly rose. "I'm not one to take a beating sitting down."

Fred caught Lance's eye as he passed. "Do they have good food at the X-Geeks's?"

Lance nodded and Fred rose. Without looking behind him, Lance called, "Come on, Toad."

As Xavier and Magneto walked back to the helicopter, Magneto asked, "Happy, Charles? That took ten times longer than my way with the same result."

"It is the _means_ that make an action just, not the ends."

"Those extra minutes could have been spent searching for Apocalypse."

Steps clicked and wheels rolled over the ramp into Velocity. "I'll always consider them well-spent." A few minutes later, the last Brotherhood member shuffled onto the plane with his bags, and Xavier gave the signal to Beast to take off.

After surveying the helicopter, Magneto jerked the vehicle to a stop, mid-takeoff. "Wait. Where's Wanda? Stop, Charles. I must get my daughter."

"No one else is in the house," declared Xavier.

"But she-" Magneto stopped talking when he realized he was contradicting a telepath. His face filled with fear, quickly replaced with anger. He turned to Pietro and the rest of the Brotherhood. "Where is she?" The floor became mighty interesting to the crew. "Pietro?"

The son of Magneto took a deep breath and stood. "Don't get mad, Father, but Wanda hasn't been staying here."

"What?!" he erupted.

Pietro raised his hands and his voice. "She's okay. She agreed to stop by every day, but she made me promise not to tell you. Luckily, I got out of the blood oath."

"Where is she?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She wouldn't tell me."

Anger built up in Magneto; his eyes narrowed. "You know she was somewhere she shouldn't be, yet, you thought she was safe enough not to concern me. So, where do you think she is?"

Pietro glanced at John, whose eyes watched intently over the back of his chair. "I don't know," he repeated.

The glance, quick as it was, did not escape Magneto. Magneto flipped the pyromaniac upside-down and over his seat by his boot-buckles. "Was she with you?"

"I live with you, you old chook (2)!"

Remy stepped forward. "I believe what Monsieur Allerdyce is saying is that if Wanda was living back at base, you would have discovered her." The Cajun didn't notice angry glares from Piotr.

"That doesn't mean he hasn't been seeing her," Magneto growled.

Wanting to outdo Remy and rescue his only friend, Piotr added, "Wanda separated with John. Currently she hates him."

Turning to his son, Magneto dropped John to the ground. "Why did you look at him then?"

"Look at _him_?" Pietro replied in a disgusted tone. "You look at a lot of things when your attention span is two seconds long. It doesn't mean anything."

Magneto was unable to confront Pietro on his lie. With his wheelchair locked in the front of the plane, Xavier called to the back, "Erik, stop. We'll find Wanda after we reach the mansion."

It wasn't long before the Velocity entered the X-Men's hanger. Setting down the craft was a rocky ride because the lights were flickering on and off. The New Mutants, huddled in a corner, rushed the helicopter when the door opened.

"Professor!" They all screamed incoherently:

"The lights keep going out!"

"My hair is standing on end!"

"The TV spoke to me"

"Ray took a picture of me in the bathroom again!"

"Goosebumps! Do ya see mah goosebumps?"

"I did not!"

An ear-shattering whistle from McCoy silenced them for a moment. "Sam, what's happening?"

The southerner stepped forward, his face absent of color. "The mansion's haunted! Lights keep goin' an' off, doorknobs are fallin' off, an' Ah swear Ah can hear Rahne howlin', but she's been gone fo' months! Oh, an' the goosebumps." Sam held up his arm. "Ah only get goosebumps when there's a spook about."

Amara tugged on Sam's arm. "Tell him about the-"

"There is no ghost," Xavier announced. Pivoting on his wheels, Xavier rolled away. "Erik, come with me if you want to see your daughter. Hank, gather everyone in the hall upstairs. Magneto and I will be back to fill them in shortly." Xavier heard a collective gasp from the New Mutants at their new guests as the door to the hanger closed behind him and his companion.

When they reached the elevator, Xavier entered while Magneto hung back. "Charles, where are you going? I thought you kept Cerebro in the lower levels."

"We aren't going to Cerebro."

Even under the shadow of his helmet, Xavier could see Magneto's face turn red. "You said you would look for Wanda where we got here-"

"I am." The bald man sighed. He had hoped to get a little farther before Magneto blew his top. "Get in the elevator, Erik."

Knowing the look on his old friend's face, Magneto grumbled and did as he was told. After ascending a half-floor, Xavier pushed the red stop button. "If you promise to remain calm, I'll tell you where your daughter is."

"What is this? Did you kidnap Wanda in case I refused to cooperate with your Apocalypse plan?"

Eyes rolled. "You know me better than that. Wanda is very confused girl."

"You don't think I know that? She's tried to kill me, Charles."

"And you did a wonderful job fixing that problem," Xavier mumbled.

"She was dangerous. . . to everyone."

"And dating someone you did not approve of."

Magneto's finger invaded Xavier's face. "I did it in her best interests."

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?"

"Yes, I do." Magneto crossed his arms and talked to Xavier over his shoulder. "And don't get all high and mighty with me. I seem to remember you altering the memories of an entire football stadium of people."

Now it was Xavier's turn to turn red and get defensive. "I did that to protect my students-"

"So did I."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Xavier sighed. "Let's end this moral debate-"

"Thank you for conceding. Now, what do you know about Wanda?"

"I did not con-" Xavier stopped, knowing that arguing more would accomplish nothing but a headache. "A few days ago, Wanda came to me to help her find a friend of hers: Agatha Harkness-"

"That old witch! I told Wanda to stay away from her-"

Xavier spoke over Magneto's commentary. "Wanda was convinced that Agatha was the only person that could help her."

"Help her? Help her with what? Why didn't she come to me?"

Xavier ignored Magneto's questions and continued, "Our searches came up empty. Wanda was...distraught. I eventually convinced her to confide in me and start regular therapeutic sessions every evening."

A moment of silence tensed the air. Magneto glared down at the other mutant. "How could you keep something like this from me? I thought we were friends."

"Friendship has nothing to do with it. I have pledged confidentiality with all my clients. The only reason I have told you this now is that I do not need a scene escalating in my office. When you are calm, I will start the elevator."

With glowing eyes, Magneto glared at the Professor for several minutes. "Start the elevator, or I'll start it myself," he growled.

"Anger will only broaden the gap between you two. It may also destroy the little progress I've made with her. Concern and compassion will get you the furthest. It may even improve your relationship."

His eyes dimmed, and he snorted. "You're giving me parental advice?"

"No, I'm giving advice to a friend."

Exhaling, Magneto was able to dispel the majority of his anger. "I'm ready." Xavier pulled out the stop button and restarted the elevator.

The doors opened three-fourths of the way between the floors. Magneto used his powers to pull the elevator the rest of the way. When he stepped out onto the floor, the doors closed in a flash, crushing his foot. In a moment they released but began opening and closing randomly.

After he recovered, Magneto growled and used his powers to hold open the door. He and Xavier slipped through. The door shut like a pair of crocodile jaws, nearly catching Magneto's cape in its clutches. The elevator lit up and descended with the outer doors open.

In the hallway, the emergency lights flashed, and end tables flipped upside down.

A house plant floated by Magneto's face. "Are you sure your school isn't haunted by some student you abandoned?"

Unamused, Xavier replied, "Yes. This is Wanda."

Magneto's eyes widened. "What's wrong?"

"I'm late."

They walked down the hallway, carefully avoiding various walking furniture and flying carpets. Magneto noticed something familiar about the ghostly happenings. "Charles, is everything dancing to the tune of the 'Teddy Bear Picnic'?"

Xavier looked around. "Could be. I don't know that one."

They reached the doors to Xavier's office unscathed. Xavier entered first.

The windows blew open as Wanda stood up. "You're late." The light fixture spun. "You made me agree to this, then you forget about me. This is not acceptable." Her hands glowed.

Light flickered off Magneto's helmet. Perched on Xavier's desk, Ebony hissed. Wanda dropped her arms. "Father?" He stepped out from behind Xavier with open arms.

Wanda backed away and glared at Xavier. "You told him!"

"He was searching for you. I did not tell him what you confided in our sessions-"

The doors swung inward, knocking over Xavier's wheelchair and sending Magneto stumbling into the center of the room. "I don't believe you. You lie like all the others. No one in my life has ever been honest with me-"

With his helmet in his hands, Magneto reached a hand toward his daughter. "Have I ever lied to you?"

Wanda leered at him over her shoulder. It didn't seem possible, but not one of her memories contained her father lying to her. "No. . ."

An odd smile stretched across the old man's face. After righting Xavier, Erik took a step toward his daughter, but Ebony leapt off Xavier's desk and ran between them, back arched and ears back. Magneto lost his composure for a second, but managed to recatch Wanda's eye and put his odd smile back on. "Then believe me when I say that I was worried when you weren't with the Brotherhood. Xavier told me that you were here and nothing else."

Wanda replied in a half-questioning tone, "Really?" Picking up the cat, Wanda stroked it, trying to calm Ebony and herself.

Erik nodded and opened his arms. "Honest. Come here."

One dark eyebrow raised. "For what?"

Uncomfortable and embarrassed, Magneto shifted his weight but kept his arms up. "A hug?"

An intruder to the scene, Xavier rolled himself back out into the hallway. Even Ebony started to squirm in Wanda's arms. The cat eventually escaped Wanda's grasp and followed Xavier out.

With only the two of them in the room, Wanda saw little choice but to hug her father. She cautiously stepped forward. She raised one arm half-way up, and Erik tried to compensate by moving his arms around. Their movement was so slow and awkward it was painful.

In his arms, Wanda's eyes were wide with wonder as she stared over her father's shoulder. Although she remembered her father hugging her before, the feeling was completely foreign. They held onto each other loosely, and she was so tense that if Magneto squeezed her she'd snap. She both wanted to pound her fists into his chest and relish in the contact. Guilt over her violent thoughts made Wanda search deeper. There had to be a reason she felt that way.

The witch's head began to pound. She pushed her father away and clutched her forehead. With her face to the ground and hand shielding the light from her eyes, Wanda rushed from the room. "Migraine. I have to take my pills."

* * *

The Hall was on of the largest rooms in the mansion. McCoy sent a few of the New Mutants to gather Armel from his bed, Jamie from his hiding place in his closet, and Kitty and Kurt from the medical bay.

The Hall looked like a junior high dance except instead of the boys and girls on opposite sides of the room, each team had claimed its own area. The only noises were the whispers among the groups and shuffling cards. Those noises stopped when a cat meowed, announcing Wanda Maximoff.

Pietro ran up to her. "Where were you? Dad freaked when you weren't at the house. Were you stalking fire freak again? And what's up with the cat? Are you going broomstick shopping tomorrow?"

Ebony gave an annoyed cry. Wanda turned from Pietro to the black cat behind her. "My thoughts exactly." Glowing blue, Pietro flew into the fireplace.

His screams were muffled but audible. "This was a new shirt, you neurotic-" He glowed blue again, and his screams sounded like a parrot cawing. Ebony trotted over and batted at Pietro's feet.

Armel elbowed Scott and pointed to the fire place. "What about that piece of scrumptiousness?"

"Why do you keep asking me?"

"Because you'll give me a straight answer. No pun intended."

Scott chuckled at Ebony swatting Pietro's backside, then shrugged. "He dates a lot of girls - sometimes at the same time - but I've always wondered..."

Armel smiled. "That wasn't a no." He waltzed over and helped Pietro out of the fireplace.

Meanwhile Wanda settled down next to Lance. After what happened to Pietro, none of the Brotherhood asked her any more questions. Although she was watching Pietro chirp his way out of Armel's advances, her eyes eventually found their way to St. John. He was staring at her. She pretended to be looking at something beyond him and struggled to survey the rest of the room. Every few minutes, she'd sneak a glance his way. Every time he returned her gaze, and every time she'd pretend he wasn't there. By the fifth time, she wasn't fooling anyone who was paying attention.

The seventh time something did happen behind John to catch Wanda's attention. Remy pushed off the wall he was leaning against and marched to Kitty.

The X-Man was giving Amara a strange look. "You do remember what, like happened, on the date (3)?" Amara nodded, and Kitty continued, "Yet you still want to go over and talk to him?"

"He's different when he's not around his friends."

Kitty placed her hand on the young girl's shoulders. "Amara, this man you're imagining is not him. Trust me."

The princess's face turned ugly. "You're just jealous," she sneered and pushed Kitty's hands from her shoulders.

It took every ounce of self-control for Kitty not to shudder or roll her eyes. "Uh, no. I'm trying to keep you from getting your heart broken. He's done nothing but stare at Wanda since she walked into the room."

"Wanda? She's a cat lady. I'm twice the woman she is!"

"Ladies," Remy interrupted. "May I have a minute to speak to Mademoiselle Kitty?"

Amara flipped her hair. "Sure, I was just leaving."

Kitty stood up and pointed to the wall the Acolytes had claimed. "If you're delivering a message from Mr. No Communicado over there, you can tell him to forget it! If he wants to talk to me, he can talk to me himself! We're not in the fifth grade! He can't send messages through friends and expect things to be all hunky-doory!"

The entire room stared. Kitty shrunk back and turned red. "I said that pretty loud, didn't I?"

"Oui."

She swung her arms back and forth and pasted a fake smile on her red face. "I guess everyone knows who I was dating now."

"Oui."

It didn't take long for the room to fill with whispers again. Kitty managed to relax, but was surprised to see that Remy was still there. "So. . . why are you still standing here? I said I didn't want to hear any message from Piotr."

"I don't have a message from him. He's not speaking to me."

The brunette crossed her arms and glared across the room. "You and me both."

Knowing that if he tried to console Kitty he'd be there all night, Remy got to the root of his journey across the room. "I wondered if you knew where Rogue was? Is she at her friend Risty's house?"

Kitty's jaw dropped; Piotr disappeared from her conscious mind. "You didn't get Rogue's voicemail?" She paused long enough for Remy to shake his head, but not a moment longer. "See, Risty was really Mystique. Rogue was pissed, then her powers went all crazy, and she destroyed the concert and almost an entire city block."

His stomach dropped. "Dat was de light show last night, non?"

Kitty nodded. "Yep. Oh, and Mystique wasn't just Rogue's best friend, but she's her mom, too. Can you believe it? Rogue and Kurt are brother and sister! Through adoption, but whatever."

Remy took a few moments to absorb the plethora of information. It did explain why Mystique was protective of Rogue (4). "Is she...okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Kitty said, embarrassed that she forgot to mention that crucial piece of information. "Kurt and I have been taking care of her. She's sleeping down in the medical lab."

Across the room, Amara was unsuccessful in her effort to get John to turn his head from Wanda. The Princess settled for blocking John's view of his ex-girlfriend. "Tell me about Australia."

John shrugged. "Big island, has just about everything on it and some things you don't find any where else."

"Do you miss it?" Before John had the chance to give a half-hearted reply, Amara opened her mouth. "I miss Nova Roma. That's the island I'm from. It's not as big as Australia, but it has its own government. My daddy's a very important government official there. . ."

John's eyes glazed over until Professor Xavier and Magneto entered the room.

"I know it's late and many of you are tired, but it is important that you know what is going on." The two mutants went on to explain what had happened in London and the severity of the situation. When Xavier asked those X-Men who hadn't yet chosen to fight, none of them spoke up, as Jean predicted. They were frightened to their very toes, but none of them would admit to being a coward. "I want you to all think about what we are up against. If at any time you feel you cannot go on, come see me. My office door will always be open. It won't be too late to bow out until we are at Apocalypse's doorstop."

"Very well. Now for your roommate assignments. -"

"Room assignments?"

"I thought this was a mansion!"

Xavier launched his voice over the gathering mob. "These assignments are only temporary. Since the reconstruction, the empty residential wings were never furnished and closed off to save on energy costs. Until the other rooms are ready for occupancy, here are your room assignments: Cyclops and Prism, Jean Grey and Scarlet Witch, Nightcrawler and Pyro, Jamie and Gambit. Magma, you will be moving to Storm's room, Quicksilver and Avalanche will be moving into your room, Colossus and Toad will be in Wolfsbane's old room, and Blob will be in the empty room. Shadowcat, Rogue, Sunspot, Berzerker, Iceman, and Cannonball: since you are already sharing, your rooms will remain the same."

"What about our stuff?" John asked.

Magneto stepped forward. "You'll have to make do for tonight. Tomorrow morning, you and the rest of the Acolytes will be making a trip back to base to get your personal items and pick up Mastermind."

The mutants grumbled and began to disperse. A few chuckles from the New Mutants gave Xavier a cause for concern. "My X-Men, please be courteous and show everyone to their _proper_ rooms. It is late, and I'm sure you would all rather go to bed than listen to one of my lectures." The peanut gallery whined, and Xavier sighed. "We all need to learn how to work together. You will all be assigned new, mixed Danger Room teams and have new training schedules."

With his arms crossed, Magneto stepped to Xavier's side to finish. His voice boomed and the room grew silent. "Meet back here tomorrow afternoon. Any questions?"

One could hear a pin drop until Bobby burst out, "Do you ever take off the bucket?"

* * *

(1) Reference to Alfred Hitchcock's _The Birds_.

(2) Old chook is a meddling old woman according to my Aussie slang dictionary. I do not know if it is commonly used or not.

(3) Kitty & Piotr, Rogue & Remy, and John & Amara went out together in _November Rain:_ Chapter 11.

(4) Mystique cornered Remy to have a "talk" about him and Rogue all the way back in_ Nine to Five_: Chapter 16.

**A/N**: This is my last chapter before I leave for Costa Rica. I hope to finish this story...someday. Updates will be more sporadic or non-existent for the next year.


	8. Happy Now, Bed Nazi?

**A/N:** Still in Costa Rica, but starting to get a move on what I've been writing and putting it in digital form. I'll be unemployed when I get back to the States, so hopefully that'll mean more time for writing.

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_**There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Eight – Good Now, Bed-Nazi?**

No one noticed Remy slipping out of the Hall shortly after Xavier and Magneto arrived. They wouldn't be talking about anything he couldn't figure out later; there was something more important he had to do. He wandered through the lower levels of the Institute until he came up on the medical bay.

Rogue was asleep on a white cot in a bright room. He couldn't imagine her liking it there: he hated it. There was no place to hide. There wasn't even a place to stand unnoticed. Luckily, he didn't have to plan a quick escape from six adamantium claws. He was invited this time.

Pulling a nearby chair to her bedside, Remy sat. Instead of looking peaceful like most sleeping people, she looked scared. He wondered what she dreamed about- it wasn't long ago that she was afraid to sleep because of all the people in her head (1). He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

He had known it was her in trouble the night before. How could he have let Magneto stop him when she obviously needed him? There was no way he could go back to Magneto after this, not to mention the game his boss was playing with Piotr.

_Screw protection from Essex._ His family disowned him long ago. He shouldn't care if they were too engrossed in their own war to see an enemy from outside.

Although he thought that, Remy knew that if he survived the Apocalypse, he'd follow Magneto's cape out the door to the next "secret" base. Despite their attitude toward him, he couldn't let more family die because of him.

Rogue would understand, like she always did. He wondered how long it would be before that understanding ran out. How many times could he not be there? How many moral lines could he cross with Magneto before Rogue had enough?

When he first joined the mutant "freedom fighters," it was a wonderful escape. Magneto could order him to do anything, and he'd skip away, because Magneto wasn't Essex.

Essex's dream was ultimate knowledge and application of that knowledge. He wanted to achieve the impossible. Along the way, the doctor learned people. He found out how their minds worked, what motivated them, and how to move them to where he wanted them. Eventually, Essex got so good he could manipulate someone while they believed they had chosen their path. With Essex, there was no freedom, only the illusion.

Magneto was also a manipulator, but society was his specialty. Magneto understood the mass mind, the mob, and took steps to bend it to his will. When it came to the individual, Magneto was rather inept. He understood fear and family but little more.

Magneto had tried to deal with Piotr's growing loyalty to Remy as if they were two distinct classes banding together against a tyrant. To retain his rule, the tyrant eliminated the trust between the two classes. Problem was, the only rebellion the boys were planning was in Magneto's paranoid delusions, aside from the sit-in they were planning to get a Wii out of the boss man.

With Wanda, Magneto had tried to rewrite history. People do say, "Whoever wins the war writes the history." The trouble with rewriting history is those that remember the truth. It takes an absolute power to eliminate every thread of truth and, thankfully, Magneto hadn't yet obtained absolute power.

"How'd you get in here, swamp rat?" Rogue yawned and pushed her half-eaten tray further away. She was paler than usual, but she looked like she was on the mend.

Remy grinned. "Divine influence."

Propping herself up, Rogue looked the Cajun up and down. "Really? Ah don't see a nun costume."

He leaned back, his chair resting on two back legs. "Actually, I'm movin' in."

Rogue shot up and knocked her dinner tray onto the floor. "What?! You're joinin' the X-Men? What about your -"

"I'm not joinin' de X-Men." The Cajun bent down and picked up the mess on the floor. "Baldy and Maggie have a truce until dis Apocalypse t'ing is dealt wit'. We're gonna be one great, big, happy team. Even de Brotherhood." He set the dishes on a nearby table.

"There won't be anythin' left o' the place."

Remy shrugged and sat back down. "It happens. I lost count of de bases Magneto's gone through."

"But this isn't just a base. It's a home." She turned from Remy and stared at the wall. "At least it used to be," she mumbled.

"It's still your home."

"Yeah, I guess." Rogue played with the flimsy blanket across her bed.

From Rogue's actions, Remy could tell something was bothering her, but he didn't want to press the sick girl. "How are you feeling?"

Her mood changed along with the subject. "Like Ah live in the med lab," she complained and flopped back onto the bed.

With sincere eyes, Remy laid a hand on her covered shoulder. "Seriously, are you okay?"

Slightly annoyed, Rogue glanced at Remy's hand, but didn't make any move to remove it. "Yeah, the Professor went inta mah head and killed the psyches for meh. They won't be tryin' ta take over again any time soon."

"He killed t'em?"

"Yeah, he stabbed them with a sword."

"No more voices?"

"Only mah own."

"Must be nice."

"Ya'd think." Again Rogue stared at the wall instead of Remy. "Ah'd gotten so used ta them bein' there that it's kinda...lonely, Ah guess."

Since his hand had still not been removed from Rogue's shoulder, Remy took it as a green light to move closer. The bed squeaked when he sat near her waist, but he successfully interrupted her gaze-fest with the wall. "You miss t'em?"

Tensing, Rogue shimmied her body to give the Cajun a little more room. "Ah wouldn't go that far. It's more like city folk goin' ta the country that can't sleep 'cause there isn't enough noise."

"Anythin' I can do?"

Closing her eyes, Rogue squeezed his covered arm. "Just keep meh company."

"I can do dat." He extended his invitation to involve lying down next to her.

As Remy wiggled around to find a comfortable spot in the cot, Rogue glared at him. When he was satisfied with his position, he returned her gaze. "What?"

"When Ah asked ya ta keep meh company, Ah didn't mean shove meh off the bed."

Remy pointed to the two millimeter space between them. "You've got plenty of space!"

"Yeah, if Ah was a cardboard cut-out."

Unwilling to move, Remy tried to puppy-dog-eye her into submission. Rogue morphed from expecting raised eyebrows to death glare. When she didn't yield, Remy huffed and rolled to his side on the very edge of the bed. With his head resting on his hand, he asked, "Good now, Bed Nazi?"

Rogue didn't answer but relaxed and looked at the ceiling. Remy did the same, and they laid in a comfortable silence until Remy finally asked the question foremost on his mind and conscience: "You t'ink Essex's treatment had somethin' to do wit' what happened to you?"

She turned her head to face him, although this time he was the one eye-locked with the ceiling. "Ah wouldn't doubt it. Thing is, aside from what's in mah file, Professor and Mr. McCoy don't know how his treatment works. The fact Ah didn't get the whole thing doesn't help with the uncertainty."

Breathing steadily, Remy fidgeted with a random card he pulled from somewhere, but said nothing. There was only one person he could think of that would have the answers to what was happening to Rogue. It would be dangerous, but since he'd failed to come to her aid the night before, Remy had to make it up to his girl. He knew one thing Essex still wanted him to do. It wouldn't be too difficult to capture it and exchange it for information and maybe something more. After a few minutes, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the cot.

Alarmed, Rogue sat up as well. "What are ya thinkin', swamp rat?" He held his tongue and refused to look her in the eye. Before he could stand, Rogue gripped his shoulder. "No, no, no! Ya are not goin' back ta Mr. Sinister!'

A sly grin spread across Remy's face as he carefully lifted Rogue's warm hand from his shoulder. "I'll only ask him a coupla questions, chere."

A death grip on his hand and a downward yank was Rogue's reply. "No! It's not worth it. He'll either lie ta ya or trick ya inta doin' somethin' he wants."

The grin did not leave Remy's face. "I can handle it." Somehow he freed himself from Rogue and headed to the door.

The goth's previously pale faced turned red. "He'll use ya ta get ta meh!"

The Cajun froze. He hadn't thought of that. Turning around, he held Rogue's shoulders and spoke softly and seriously only inches from her face. "T'en promise me you won't follow."

"Fat chance," she growled. She shoved him away, then grabbed his coat as he began to exit once more. "Promise meh ya won't go! He won't tell ya anythin' useful, and ya'll put our lives on the line for nothin'."

Again he stopped, no further than he had gotten before. She was right. Going to Essex alone would be stupid. Maybe he could convince Xavier to send a team out there. Remy sat back down next to Rogue.

Rogue glared holes in the back of his head until he turned his face to her. "Thank God you're not a complete idiot," she said.

Her boyfriend smirked. "Only when I'm wit' you, chere."

* * *

The Hall emptied as people dragged their new roommates to their new quarters. Kitty hung back, shooting eye daggers at Piotr as he followed the others to their rooms. Just as she lost sight of him, Kitty let out a short scream and stomped after him. She phased in front of him and put her hand on his chest. "We need to talk," she said as she pushed him back to the Hall. Knowing that look on Kitty's face, Lance snickered. Kitty's head whipped around. "Shut up, Lance!"

A tapping foot, crossed arms, and sour expression left Piotr speechless. The color built up in Kitty's face. "How was Russia?" she managed to ask through clenched teeth. Piotr opened his mouth, but Kitty wasn't finished. "No, better question. How was your flight back...four days ago!" Kitty shoved him, then took a few steps back and flailed her arms. "Not one call or text: 'Hey, I'm back in town. How are you?'"

"I was busy."

"So what? Remy manage to leave a message for Rogue while you were in lock down. Why couldn't you?"

Piotr's face darkened. "I am _not_ Gambit."

She snorted. "That's for sure. He might make mountains of mistakes and have more baggage than Paris Hilton on a weekend trip, but he knows how to treat a girl."

Jaw clenched, Piotr nodded and backed away. "You wish to date Gambit. Okay. I will not stand in the way." He turned.

Kitty jumped through Piotr and blocked his escape. "I didn't say that." She exhaled and thought about her next words. "I'm hurt that you didn't tell me you came back early. It makes me think you don't want me as your girlfriend."

The tin man's expression softened. "No! That is not true. I like you very much, Kayta."

"Kayta?"

"Kitten is 'kayta;' in Russian. When I spoke to my little sister, that is what I called you."

Kitty melted a little inside. "You told your sister about me?"

"Yes, she wish to meet you very much. I told her that it would be difficult, but you could be....pencil friends?"

Her insides melted more. She was being accepted by family she had never met. "Pen pals?"

The Russian nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so."

Kitty's smile faded when she remembered why she had taken Piotr aside. She cocked her head and asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were back?"

Piotr shifted his weight and avoided Kitty's gaze. "I was busy...and angry."

"Angry at me?"

With the speed Piotr picked up his head, he could have gotten whiplash. "No! No, not you. A person I thought was a friend."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Piotr shook his head. "It upsets me very much. I do not want you to see me...ugly."

Kitty took his hand. "Piotr, if we want this to work, we can't pick and choose the parts of us we want to show. It's an all or nothing deal. Otherwise we are only pretending and none of the good stuff is really real either. Just an act."

After a few moments, Piotr had put together the English words he wanted to say: "I'm afraid you will not like me."

The X-Man snorted. "I doubt that'll happen. You just saw me fly off the handle and rant like a banshee and you still like me, right?"

He scrunched up his face in confusion. "You did not fly."

"Sorry, figure of speech. I went crazy and screamed a lot."

"I like you, but I am more frightened also. I do not wish you to 'fly off the handle and rain like a band-she' again."

Kitty giggled. "Me neither, so we better keep telling each other what's going on."

"Okay," Piotr replied softly. Kitty took the boy's hand and led him to an out of the way corner of the mansion and sat down. As Piotr told Kitty the story of his older brother Mikhail, walls between them were breaking.

* * *

"Here it is," said Kurt as he turned on the light. Two beds, desks, and dressers took up most of the floor space in the room. One side of the room was clean with the bed made. The other half was a mess with stickers, shoes, and dirty clothes strewn about.

Assuming the made bed was the unoccupied one, John threw flamethrowers on it.

"That's my bed," Kurt informed him politely.

"Oh." John picked up his fuel tanks. "You mind picking up your stuff of the other bed so I can sleep?"

Kurt looked solemnly at the messy bed. "That's not my stuff. Except for the blue fuzz. I shed everywhere." Flopping face-first on his own bed, Kurt sent a message that he didn't want to chat with his new roommate.

The message was not received. "I thought this was your room."

"I used to share," came a mumble from Kurt's pillow.

"Used to, as in don't now, right? I'm not in the mood to snuggle with strangers tonight."

The blue elf turned his head so he was more audible, but didn't bother to open his eyes. "He doesn't live here anymore."

"Then why is the guy's junk still here?" Trying to kick a basketball out of the way, John stubbed his tow and hopped around the room.

"He left unexpectedly a few weeks ago," answered Kurt.

"'A few weeks!' And you haven't washed the sheets!"

"I didn't think we'd become a Holiday Inn. Now, please, let me sleep."

John's foot brushed something squishy on the floor. "More like Motel Six." Glancing at Kurt, John raised an eyebrow. "You don't have fleas, do you?"

"No, just lice."

John shrieked and jumped on the closest chair, forming a shield of fire.

"I was kidding."

John extinguished the fire and sat down in the chair he was standing on. "I knew that."

The lag in the conversation was music to Kurt's ears. He lifted his covers with his tail and slipped between the sheets, then stretched over and turned out the lamp on his night stand.

A lighter snapped, and a small flame appeared in the room. "Are you some sort of monkey-mutant?" John asked.

"What?" Kurt groaned, already half-asleep.

"You have a fully prehensile tail. That's a very rare trait that only monkeys, opossums, kinkajous, harvest mice-"

Kurt tossed in his bed. "I thought you were going to bed."

"I'm trying, but I have to dig through an entire New York Knicks roster to find it. Don't worry, I had a couple spoonfuls of instant coffee on the way over so I'm not tired yet."

"I am." Kurt pulled the covers up over his head.

"I could use some help cleaning this up," John suggested.

"No, not now. I'll help in the morning." He yawned and rolled over. "Or maybe the afternoon."

Kurt heard John shuffling around, drawers opening and slamming, and a few more stubbed toes. It wasn't until a campfire smell reached his nose that he grew concerned. Kurt shot out of bed. "What are you doing?!" He bamfed and returned with a fire extinguisher in hand. Soon the blaze was out.

"What'd you do that for?" John yelled and yanked the fire extinguisher away from Kurt.

The X-Men was fully awake now, but couldn't comprehend why John wasn't thanking him for putting out the blaze. "The room was on fire!"

"Not the room, just the old guy's junk. There's only one good place for this." John waltzed over to the window, holding the extinguisher as far from his body as he could.

"It would have caught the room on fire!"

"No, it wouldn't." Opening the window, out with the red cansister.

"Of course it would! That's what fire does. What are you crazy? Why did you throw it out the window? You're going to break something." Kurt teleported outside and retrieved the extinguisher. John tried to take it away again, but Kurt held tight this time.

"Fire does what I want it to, you drongo. Now give me the red thing of death!"

Realizing his mistake, Kurt released the extinguisher and slapped his forehead. "Oh, sorry. I forgot you could control fire. Man, I really need some sleep."

Again, John threw the canister out the window, but this time left it open. "I forgot how bad you smelt when you disappear." John started pulling open drawers. "Do you have any scented candles in here? Usually I'd have my own, but Magneto didn't want Xavier to know where his 'secret base' was, so we're going back tomorrow to get our stuff. That reminds me: Can I borrow some pajamas? My uniform kinda chafes."

"Sure." Kurt dragged his feet to his dresser. "You really shouldn't burn someone else's stuff."

"You said he'd been gone for weeks. If he wanted it, he'd have come back for it."

"I guess." Kurt reached into a drawer and instead of a stack of soft cloth, he only felt the hard drawer. The blue guy scrunched his face up in confusion. "Where did get the stuff you set on fire?"

"All over." John started to make a new pile to burn. "From the old guy's bed, the dresser."

"This dresser?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Wrong dresser," Kurt ground his teeth and slammed the drawer shut.

"Oops. No pajamas for me. Guess I'll have to sleep in the nick." John pulled the covers back on the newly discovered bed.

The blue mutant stared at him in disbelief. The Australian showed no remorse for his best friend's property, kept him up late, and burnt his clothes. His anger swelled, and soon smells of sulfur and charcoal spread throughout the mansion.

* * *

Jean Grey's neat and orderly room completely disgusted Wanda. It was like a hotel room: lifeless. If it wasn't for the perfectly level posters and photographs on the wall, Wanda would swear it was one. Jean pointed around the room, but Wanda paid little attention to the babble. Putting up an interested front would take energy and encourage Jean to talk more; neither outcome pleased the witch. The X-Man offered Wanda a set of cute, matching pajamas. The beady-eyed moons with their cheesy smiles made her want to wring Jean's neck with them. Shoving her desires down, Wanda refused the offer.

While silently applauding her politeness, she watched Jean move the night stand and pull out a trundle bed. The thought of sleeping that close to Jean was far worse than the moon pajamas. The last thing Wanda needed was to be smothered when Jean rolled off her bed in the middle of the night.

"No," Wanda announced and left with Ebony at her heels. They wandered through the mansion until thoroughly lost. A flickering light caught her attention. Jamie Madrox was curled up on the couch in the rec room. He gave no sign of hearing Wanda and Ebony enter; his eyes were glued to the late-night anime. It wasn't the television that drew Wanda in but the comfortable sofa.

Jamie jumped when Wanda stepped into view. "Up," she said and gestured.

The boy's dry eyes squinted at the witch. "Are you Gambit?"

"Do I look like a cocky womanizer?"

"I don't know what a womanizer looks like. Amara says you like women-"

Wanda's eyes narrowed. "Who's Amara?"

Shrinking into the couch cushions, Jamie gulped. "No one."

"Tell me," she insisted.

Despite the bullying by the other New Mutants, Jamie had never gotten used to interrogation. "I wasn't supposed to say anything."

"I don't care."

Almost in tears, Jamie pleaded, "But- but- but they already hate me, and they don't let me do stuff with them, because I'm small, and my powers -"

"Ugh! Enough with the sob story. Hand me the remote and get off the couch."

Head down, Jamie slid off the couch and held the remote control for Wanda. She snatched it and flopped onto the warm spot on the couch. Ebony mewed pitifully after Jamie's retreating form. Despite Wanda's coldheartedness, even she felt sympathy for the young mutant dragging his feet out of the rec room.

"I said get off the couch, not pout yourself into the next time zone."

"Huh?"

"You can stay if you want," she said. Jamie grinned from ear to ear. Wanda's voice returned to its hostile tone. "Keep looking at me like that and I'll change my mind."

Unable to stop smiling, Jamie hopped onto a loveseat and turned his face to the TV. Ebony brushed against his leg, but when he tried to pick her up, she squirmed and ran out of the room.

The remaining two sat in peaceful coexistence until a mop of fiery hair launched over the couch. Wanda peeked over the cushions and found St. John trying to shimmy himself underneath the sofa. She could see bruises forming on his skin, and he reeked of rotten eggs. Wanda's cold sapphire eyes froze him.

"Uh, hello," he sputtered and waved a moment later.

For any other person, Wanda would have a terse insult shot off her tongue. Instead her mind was blank. She stared into his eyes for the first time since she dumped him. All those feelings she wished away came tumbling to the surface. She didn't hate him. How could she? That eye for mischief and dopey grin called to her. He made her feel alive again. She wanted to feel those things again. She wanted to yank his body out from underneath the sofa and press her lips against his.

Jamie's voice stopped her. "Are you Gambit?"

Sliding his body out from the sofa, John sat straight up and looked and the youngest X-Man. "Gambit! _Gambit_? How could you confuse me with him? I'm ten times funnier than he is!"

Jamie shied away and shrugged. "I don't know anyone."

"I can fix that!" John leapt up and flopped onto the small sofa with Jamie.

Eyes fixed on the television, Wanda attempted to ignore John and Jamie. It was difficult with John's exuberant gestures, sound effects, and fire people flying everywhere. Unlike earlier in the Hall, when her eyes drifted to John, he wasn't staring back.

Studying him from his shaggy hair to his skinny arms and big feet, Wanda wondered why she was ever attracted to this drain on society. Nothing he ever said made sense. It was like he was speaking his own language. When he was drunk, it was even worse. He spouted out nonsense about something or, better yet, _someone_ else. Why couldn't he appreciate what was right in front of him instead of dreaming about his ex-girlfriend?

Anger and loneliness built up inside her. Her fists clenched, teeth ground, and the television flipped wildly through the channels. A few random knick-knacks, including the remote control, lifted up.

What was it Xavier told her? That she must find a more productive outlet for her emotions than releasing her powers uninhibited? She snorted like she did in every session with the telepath. What did he want her to do? Take up cross-stitching? That would end up with a needle in someone's eye for sure. Maybe several needles in many people's eyes. Or several needles in one person's eyes. There were so many people in the mansion to choose from.

"The ghost!" Jamie screamed. "The ghost is back!"

"Where?" John eagerly asked. The Aussie glanced around, meeting Wanda's eye for a short moment.

Caught, Wanda unclenched her fists and slumped in the sofa. All the floating objects clattered to the ground. The television stopped on some 24-hour news station. This time, the witch was able to keep her eyes on the television, although her ears were tuned in on John and Jamie.

"Oh," John sighed and reanimated his fire people. "There's no ghost. Just Wanda and her temper tantrums."

A grinding sound filled the room, but Wanda refused to give up her cover of watching television.

John leaned forward, putting his chin in his hands. "Really, luv, who do you think you're kidding?"

Wanda's knuckles turned white against the arm of the green sofa.

John continued, "No one watches the news this late at night. They put the ugly, half-intelligent people on at night. What are you really thinking?"

Snapping her head, Wanda growled through clenched teeth. "What object would be best to tear your heart out with?"

Jamie blanched. A cockeyed grin spread across the Aussie's face, but there was a dull twitch of pain in his eyes. He leaned back and draped his arms over the back of the loveseat he and Jamie shared and relaxed. "That's easy: a spoon! It's dull, so it'll hurt more (2)." Jamie stared up at him, flabbergasted at the Aussie's challenge. He scuttled as far away from John as he could on the little loveseat. The pain in John's eyes spread across his face. "I'm not surprised you forgot." He waited for a reply, but none came.

For once, Wanda honestly found what was on the television more interesting. She was on the edge of her seat, straining to hear. She searched the floor for the remote. A large boney hand snatched it up first. Before John could open his mouth, he was hexed into the loveseat, whose arms held and gagged him. Wanda cranked up the volume.

On the screen a reporter stood next to a man who looked like a used car salesmen in an expensive suit. Behind them, construction crews worked to remove some rubble.

The man in the suit was talking: "... putting this disaster in a positive light."

"The headquarters of Pow-R 8 was demolished in one night without warning. How's do you turn a positive light on that?" the reporter asked.

"Our company is able to explore new avenues without the hindrance or obligation to complete old projects. Honestly, one of our most anticipated projects was going nowhere. Now we can get a fresh start."

All three were intently watching now. They paid little attention to a fourth person with disheveled hair and clothes entering the room. Remy's eyes glowed. "Thanks for wrapping him up fo' me, Witch." Before he could charge a card, a blue glowing hand rose and suctioned a pillow to his mouth.

On the television, the reporter shifted her weight and winked. "Any hints at what these new projects are going to be?"

The spokesperson for Pow-R 8 chuckled. "Sorry, my lips are sealed."

Always searching for a juicy conspiracy, the reporter tried to rock the spokesperson off his feet. "With such an optimistic attitude over the destruction of your main headquarters, are you a suspect in this strange case?"

The man's face was drained of humor. "No. The police suspect '_s-o-s'_ terrorism. We had a case a few weeks ago where one of our satellite bottling companies was distributing a product that had adverse effects on mutants. Instead of alerting us to the illness, a small group of mutants destroyed the product and the interior of the factory. Given the curious nature of the collapse of our main headquarters and then the as-of-now unrelated robbery at our bank, '_s_-o-_s'_ terrorism is the suspected motive."

"For those just tuning in, we're here with the spokesperson for Pow-R 8 Beverage Company, a recent victim of _super_-on-_sapien, _or_ s-_o_-s,_ violence." The reporter turned from the camera to the spokesman. "You admit that your product caused illnesses. How could this product reach the shelves without knowing of its adverse health effects?"

The spokesman carefully buttoned his jacket. "The product had adverse effects in only mutants. Our testing panels try to cover a wide range of people and tastes, but, prior to the Bayville incident, mutants were not targeted as a group to include on the panel."

"What about the rumors of mutant experimentation in the secret subbasements discovered since the destruction of the Pow-R 8 headquarters?"

The microphone was shoved in the spokesman face again. "Completely false. Someone has misconstrued the purposeful inclusion of mutants on our test panels as 'mutant experimentation.' I assure you that those so-called 'secret subbasements' are for storage, archive, and server purposes only."

"Bullshit," Wanda fumed. Her hold on the loveseat and Gambit's face cushion fell.

The man on the television continued, "Only one body was found in the rubble: a night guard. He was human, a family man. The Company is assisting the family in this difficult time."

"Thank you for your time. This is CCB News at the former site of the Company headquarters in Jacksonville, Florida, showing a positive outlook on rebuilding after _super_-on-_sapien,_ or _s_-o-_s,_ terrorism. . ."

Wanda's eye twitched. So did the lights. "It was all for nothing," she growled. The point they tried to make in Florida was lost. The company practically laughed at their efforts. She might as well have not gone. It would have saved her a lot of pain and heartache.

She imagined the television folding in on itself, but before she had a chance to hex it, the machine burst into flames. Her head snapped to the right. "That's my job!" she hissed at John.

"Maybe at the Brotherhood, but here it's first come, first serve." He turned to the black smoke bellowing out of the rubble that used to be the television. "Fuckin' Magneto."

"Magneto? He wasn't the one with the science experiments in his basement."

"So? He's the reason it turned out so wonky. He wants a war, not justice."

Before Wanda had the chance to defend her father, the smoke alarms went off and they were all drenched in fire retardant.

* * *

(1) Rogue confessed her fear to Remy way back in _Nine to Five_: Chapter 14.

(2) The magnificent Alan Rickman as the Sheriff of Nottingham in _Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves_ had the following memorable conversation:

Alan Rickman/Sheriff to Robin Hood: I'll cut your heart out with a spoon!

Later, the Sheriff's cousin to Alan Rickman: Why a spoon, Cousin? Why not an ax?

Alan Rickman/Sheriff: Because it's dull, you twit; it'll hurt more!


	9. This Does Not Concern You

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

_**There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Nine –This Does Not Concern You **

Twenty-seven mutants stood on the front lawn of Xavier's Institute in various stages of sleep and disarray. All eyes glared at one of the four covered in fire retardant who were in the rec room when the television blew.

St. John sat on the ground, elbows resting on his knees, cigarette in hand. He'd take a drag and scan the crowd with a slight smile on his face, not feeling any remorse for blowing up the television. Actually, he found amusement in the angry faces that let something so small as a fire in the middle of the night ruffle their feathers.

Xavier wheeled out in front of the group. "Thank you all for responding properly to the alarm. I'm sorry you had to lose sleep, but it reassures me that in case of a fire, you'd all be safe.

"Unfortunately, the rec room will be closed until further notice. Now, please, return to your rooms and try to get some sleep."

Most everyone shuffled toward the mansion, except for John. As they passed the Aussie, they'd glare and he'd grin. He knew he was going to get it. He didn't even look up when a shadow loomed above him.

Rogue was first to pop her hip and start ranting. "That was real low, John! Couldn't ya find somethin' better ta do than sic Kurt on Remy? Then, because not everybody was as miserable as ya, ya had ta wake us all up in the middle o' the night!"

John tapped his ash on the ground and cocked his head toward Rogue. "How was I supposed to know Mr.-Smells-like-Blue-Rotten-Eggs-and-Ham was going to flip out like that? I ran to the med lab hoping for some back-up."

"Rogue," Xavier interrupted. "Please go back inside. Erik and I have some things to discuss with Mr. Allerdyce."

Reluctantly, she followed with Remy and Wanda at her sides. Looking back, Wanda had no sympathy. "Serves that moron right after that bull he was making up about Father," she said to no one in particular.

Remy heard her musings and replied, "Dat wasn't bull."

Planting her heel and turning, Wanda stopped inches from Remy. "What?"

He sighed and stepped back. "It wasn't crap. Magneto took de back-up data - "

"So they couldn't resume their work!" Wanda defended.

Remy's voice remained soft and calm. "Oui, but why hasn't he released it publicly?" He paused for Wanda to throw out some half-thought out explanation, but she didn't. He continued, "Magneto has de proof, but he wants a war. De data would justify Jacksonville. Dat works more towards Xavier's goal, not Magneto's."

Shaking her head, Wanda spent one more moment in denial. "But. . . that wasn't the point."

The three continued walking to the mansion as Remy explained. "In your eyes, not Magneto's. His mind is always on his prize: Avoid de inevitable genocide of mutants by starting de war now, before t'ey've had time to develop something to beat us, like a poisoned energy drink. Our mission in Florida wasn't revenge for de test mutants or to expose an injustice; it was to take out a possible opponent of de war. Remember, Magneto never mentioned t'ere was any live mutant testing."

"But we're not at war. We're trying to protect ourselves."

"Petite, Magneto will always be at war." Reaching the porch, Remy held the door open for Rogue, who passed inside.

"You just don't understand him," she exclaimed.

Reappearing in the entry way, Rogue laid her gloved hand on Wanda's arm. Her voice was soft and calming. "Sugah, Ah touched ya dad once. Ah do understand him. Ah had nightmares 'bout the War and the camps fo' weeks."

Taking a step back, Wanda clenched her fist and pointed a thumb at her chest. "Exactly. He doesn't want the camps to happen to _us_."

The Goth nodded and spoke in that same calming tone. "Right, and ta make sure that don't happen, _ever_, he's gotta win the war. Can't do that if there ain't a war."

"Magneto's an ends versus means person, petite. He'll do whatever it takes – right or non – to make de ends like he wants d'em," added Remy.

Wanda's red face showed her frustration and confusion. "But we were _right_ when we destroyed that company!"

"But de world don' know dat. If dey did, maybe t'ere'd be more mutant sympathizers. Maybe people will grow slowly to accept us, like Xavier wants; Maybe t'ere won't be a war."

"What's wrong with that?" snarled Wanda.

"Ask your dad," Remy shot back.

Rogue's hand on her shoulder prevented Wanda from exploding at Remy again. "Magneto needs the war ta be sure the camps won't happen. When ya win the war, ya make the rules."

"Magneto t'inks de war will happen sooner or later. He's batting for sooner; when he's ready, but the humans aren't. Makes de odds better. Too much later and humans might get smart and beat us. Dat's why we went to Jacksonville. Not to save people or make a point, but to eliminate an enemy."

Wanda crossed her arms. "But that's stupid. We look like moronic mutants hell-bent on destroying everything!"

Remy cocked his head to the side. "An ugly enemy to humans, non?"

Her eyes narrowed and turned dark. This was not what she thought she was working for her. She thought they were making a statement to the world: Mutants would not accept undeserved prosecution and second class citizenship. They had rights. As much as she enjoyed the fact that people feared her, she didn't want to be the scary monster of children's nightmares. "That's not who I am," she declared.

"Ya should tell Magneto," Rogue suggested. "Maybe he'll listen ta ya. He doesn' seem ta listen ta anyone else."

"Oh, I will," she growled, eyes moving back to John, who was still sitting on the ground with his head between his knees. He took a lazy drag on his cigarette while her father towered over him, face reddening. Now that most everyone was inside, Magneto let loose.

Wanda refocused her anger from John to her father. That man had nullified what she thought was the objective of the Florida mission and had the gall to be upset about the reactions. Wanda had the same reaction John had. It could have been her sitting on the ground being verbally accosted.

Rogue followed Wanda's gaze and realized her plan. "Ah didn' mean right now. Wanda -"

A small voice interrupted her from behind. "Rogue?" Jamie rubbed his eyes. "Could you help me find my roommate?"

Glancing at the tired boy over her shoulder, Rogue replied. "Not now, sugah." Focused back on Wanda, Rogue began talking sense again.

Once again Jamie interrupted, this time practically in tears. "But no one else will, and I don't want to be a paperclip!"

Whipping around, Rogue knelt down to the boys eye level. "Jamie! Ya're not gonna turn inta a paperclip! Bobby tell ya that?"

The boy sniffled. "But it's true! Magneto'll turn me into a paperclip when he finds out I lost Gambit!"

"Magneto won't, well, maybe, but Ah won't let him, wait," Rogue paused and replayed Jamie's words in her head. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her boyfriends slip into the shadows. "Rembrandt Etienne LeBeau! Don't ya even think 'bout slinkin' off someplace. And Wanda -"

The Goth turned but the Witch was gone and out of earshot, and no amount of shouting at her could slacken her determined pace. Wanda was so focused on her new mission that she didn't notice that she was being followed, and not by Rogue, Remy, or Jamie.

When she reached them, her father was speaking: "…in only a few hours! This is a new record for – "

"Father, I need to speak with you," Wanda interrupted, stance firm, voice unwavering.

Magneto barely glanced at her. "Not now."

Through clenched teeth, Wanda argued, "Yes, now." Her fists pulsed with energy.

"Can't you see I'm busy kicking Pyro out?"

"No, you can't!" A little girl with long brown hair ran out from Wanda's shadow. Surprised, all four stared speechless at the mutant. Amara blushed and avoided eye contact. "But you can't send him away, because, because…because it was my fault the fire alarms went off!"

The group continued to stare at the world's worst liar with confused expressions on their faces. Xavier attempted to usher her back toward the mansion. "I'm not sure why you're lying, but we'll talk about it tomorrow."

Amara stomped the ground and flamed on. "But I did!" She paused, eyes searching for a story. "I had a bad dream and when I work up, my powers were going crazy!" Again, no one bought it.

Now Magneto stepped up to the plate. He stepped inside Amara's comfort zone and towered over the brassy, now frightened girl. "Child, go to bed. This does not concern you."

It looked as though Amara was inhaling more courage to retort, when John looked up and spoke. "Go to bed, Pixie. I can handle it."

Amara smiled at her nickname and flamed off. It was as if her outburst and lies hadn't happened. Glowing, Amara giggled and flipped her hair then obediently skipping into the house.

Meanwhile, Wanda had a different reaction to Amara's nickname. "Pixie?! Oh, yes, John. I can see how heartbroken you are! Where's that spoon?" She hexed an in-ground laser up and aimed it at his head. "I guess this will have to do."

In the background, Magneto smiled. He didn't know what was going on between his daughter and the pyromaniac, but he felt good knowing that she wanted to kill John. He knew it was some sort of strange and unusual circumstances that they had been together in the first place. He was right when he altered Wanda's memories. It allowed her to see the boy clearly.

To Magneto's chagrin, Xavier positioned himself between John and the laser. "Wanda, this will not solve your problem. We've been through this. You cannot solve your problems by acting instantly and irrationally to situations going on around you. There may be parts of the story that have yet to be revealed."

Magneto's eyes narrowed. Xavier was hinting at Wanda's altered memories. _How dare he try and involve himself in family matters?_ Before Xavier could continue and possibly reveal the truth, Magneto stepped in. He faced Wanda head on. "Wanda, this matter does not concern you. Go to bed," he growled.

Something deep within the witch surfaced. Rogue's voice reminded her that Wanda did what she wanted and didn't blindly follow orders. Especially orders from a man who would let a company like Pow-R8 get away with atrocities for his own agenda. There was also a little of something else: The desire not to be upstages by a pubescent "pixie."

"That's where you're wrong, _Magneto_." Hoping it would pierce him through his armor, Wanda let venom drip from her last word. "It's my fault the alarms went off."

"Don't lie, _Daughter_," he shot back with the same fury.

"Want me to show you? This time I'll ruin. . . . the dining room. Or how about your precious danger room?" The glow around her hands grew. She took a deep breath and shifted her arms into a meditative position. "If he goes, I go." The ultimatum came from her mouth without being cleared through her brain. She was surprised, but in the following few seconds decided that she would be happier in her own bed at the Brotherhood House instead of Jean's trundle.

Xavier decided that he needed to interfere in this family dispute. "That will not be necessary, Miss Maximoff. I don't doubt that you played some part in this, but you both must understand that there will be consequences to these types of actions in my home." He waited for her to power down. When she did not, he continued. "We will decide your punishment tomorrow, after some sleep."

Her hands dimmed but still glowed. She nodded toward John. "What about him?"

Magneto frowned at his daughter's concern. A minute ago, she had her heart set on killing him, and now she did not want him to leave. Something was wrong. He had to remove Pyro from the equation. He turned to the pyromaniac: Instead of noticing that his cigarette had three centimeters of ash at the end and was burning dangerously close to his fingers, John gazed bewildered at Magneto's daughter. "Pyro must leave –" Magneto ordered.

The said pyromaniac flicked the butt of his cig across the frosting grass and stood up. "Good, great, _marvy_. Didn't want to be here in the first place." He glanced in Wanda's direction, hoping to catch some sort of reaction from her but was disappointed.

"Hold on now!" Xavier was surprised at John's genuine desire to leave his welcoming home and turn his back on the world that might end without him. He looked up at his towering friend. "Erik, I never agreed to that." Now in lecture mode, Xavier continued. "Simple avoidance will not solve the issue. There has to be a time of adjustment for everyone. If we are to overcome the Apocalypse, we must learn to get along in and out of missions and training."

John squinted one eye at the bald mutant. "And in common tongue that means?"

"You can stay, but you will be punished," Xavier translated while Magneto glared at him. If it wasn't for the looming Apocalypse and their desperation for training a force than may be able to combat it, Magneto would have insisted on Pyro's dismissal. The larger goal made Magneto concede to Xavier's desire. There were other ways to insure the lackey stayed away from his daughter.

John was not so focused on the "ultimate goal." He rolled his eyes. "Oh, goodie." He smacked his lips, wondering where his cigarette went. This place was a trip. A trip with people he didn't like, and the few that he did were pissed at him. "What if I want to go?"

"That is your choice. We are asking you to risk your life for an ignorant world. If you don't wish to join us and respect the rules of this household, you are free to leave."

In a flash, a new cigarette appeared in John's hand. He tapped it against his palm, appearing as though he would walk out. He glanced at Wanda, a glance that didn't go unnoticed.

Everyone was angry with him except for Wanda . . . maybe. She was still standing there, that was something. Could she possibly care what happened to him? Twenty minutes ago she was ignoring and suffocating him in a chair. Then she comes out and plays rough while simultaneously trying to get him out of trouble. Women are confusing creatures, yet he was never bored trying to figure out where her mind was going. Taking up residence in the mansion might be worth it if he could find out.

John's eyes on her made Wanda feel uncomfortable. He was standing so much closer to her now. She didn't remember him moving. Why was he still looking at her? She hadn't meant to come to his defense. Her original reason for remaining outside disappeared from her brain. She had completely forgotten about confronting her father. Under John's eyes, her mind filled with memories of herself and John in Florida. Then she remembered the breakup and Amara. Her jaw set, Wanda exited the group without waiting for John's final answer.

John's demeanor changed in an instant. He stood up straighter and balanced his cigarette on the corner of his goofy grin. Continuing to watch Wanda's retreating figure, John shrugged. "Always loved a good mystery. Besides if I'm going to go out, I might as well do it with a bang." His lighter flashed and a fireball the size of his head lit his cig. After it was lit, he jogged to catch up with Wanda. "What was all that about?"

She ignored him, not really knowing how to explain herself. She didn't understand it herself. Instead she stomped faster.

John picked up the pace as well, but choked on his smoke. He removed the cigarette and coughed. Once he regained his breath, he again caught up with the witch, this time stopping her with his hand on her arm, and repeated his question.

His hand was warm and made her arm tingle. Wanda pushed him away to make the feeling stop. "What?!" She made her face extra hard and cold as to not give herself away. "Don't tell me. My punishment is to get cancer from your smoke."

John looked accusingly at his cigarette. "You know I don't care what the Surgeon General says, but right now stop smoking and be good." He hid it behind his back and asked again, "Why'd you do it?"

The witch snorted. "I don't have to explain myself to you." She snapped her head from John to the mansion's front doors. Over her shoulder she called, "If you want a heartfelt story, why don't you go find your little 'Pixie'?"

By that time they had reached the porch. John halted while Wanda entered through the double doors, hexing them behind her.

"Who?"

Unlike the rest of the mansion who returned to bed, Magneto, Xavier, Logan, McCoy, and Ororo sat in the kitchen around a pot of coffee. The five hadn't been in bed when the fire alarm went off, but in Xavier's office, planning team rosters and discussing rules and strategies. The only sound in the kitchen was the buzzing of the refrigerator motor and the occasional noisy sipper.

Logan smacked his lips and set his mug on the table. "We should go over the teams again."

The others groaned. Ororo turned and set her hand on top of his. "We all decided we should take a break. Please, no shop talk." She removed her hand and took another sip of tea.

Magneto either didn't hear Ororo or didn't care. "We worked the teams countless times. Everyone was satisfied, but you."

The Canadian shook his head. "They shouldn't be on the same team. He'll do nothing but distract her."

This time Ororo contradicted him. "You should give Rogue more credit than that. I would be more worried about Kitty and Piotr on the same team."

"But they're both on _my_ team. I'll keep them in line."

Magneto poured himself another cup. "Gambit knows how to get a job done and will not take chances that will damage the success of the mission."

"The last roster looked better," Logan argued.

"No, it didn't," Magneto growled.

Leaning back in his chair, Logan crossed his arms. "I remember changing that one because someone's daughter was on a team with her boyfriend."

Magneto glared. "That moron is _not _her boyfriend. They can't stay in the same room together without blowing something up."

"And I agreed that it would be a bad idea to place Miss Maximoff in that much contact with Mr. Allerdyce considering her mental state," Xavier piped in.

"For the sake of everyone's mental state, they should not be put in contact with Pyro," Magneto sneered.

Turning to his old friend, Xavier spoke with concern. "I'm not sure if you are aware of this, Erik, but Mastermind did a poor job altering Wanda's memories."

Insulted, Magneto sat up straighter and held his head high. "You've made it perfectly clear that you do not approve of my parenting, Charles. Why don't we stick to the matter at hand?"

"Gambit needs to be put on another team," Logan repeated.

"No."

The two continued to bicker, until McCoy, with three cups of coffee in him, interrupted. "It wouldn't be too hard for me modify a computer dating program to choose teams based on powers and personality compatibility," he suggested for the tenth time that evening. The rest of the room shook their heads.

"I feel we did a good job using our own minds, Hank," Ororo replied for the rest.

"The final roster is the final roster," declared Magneto.

All but Logan nodded in agreement. He opened his mouth to object once more, but a scuffle outside the door caught his attention. "You comin' in, or only listenin'?"

The newest and shiniest face in Bayville appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. "Didn't mean to be an eaver."

"Is there something you need, Armel?" Xavier asked.

"To speak to you, actually."

"Come in then," the professor said and gestured accordingly.

Armel didn't move. "Uh, I'd rather not say in front of the entire class."

"Very well." Xavier nodded and rolled out into the hallway. Respectfully, he waited until the door had completely shut behind him. "Yes?"

The young mutant shifted his weight and refused to make eye contact. "You know what you said earlier about how it's okay not to want to die?"

Xavier nodded. "Yes, I recall saying something like that."

Now Armel played with his hands. "Hypothetically, if someone decided that they'd like to, you know, live, would they have to leave?"

A brief silence passed between the two as Xavier thought. "No, I suppose not; if they wanted to stay, but they'd still have to pitch in: wash dishes, cook, laundry, etc."

An angular smile broke out on Armel's face. "Fab, that's the option I want."

The bald man was surprised at the turn of the conversation. "Are you sure?"

His eyes narrowed. "I thought you said it was no pressure."

"Why did you change your mind?"

Armel's eyes grew so small, the light that passed through his head was concentrated into two slivers. "You said we didn't have to give you a reason."

The professor tried to dispel the tension through a kindly smile. "True, but if you would humor me?"

Armel shrugged as if he didn't care. "I hadn't made up my mind to begin with. If you hadn't noticed, I'm not much of a fighter. I go to pieces at the throw of a rock."

Professor Xavier had to admit that Armel was a good liar, but he had studied people for years, knowing what they were thinking in their minds. Xavier could recognize the body language, no matter how subtle. This was good, since he couldn't read the mutant any further.

The professor pretended to believe his excuse. "Fear is nothing to be ashamed of as long as it does not run our lives. Let me know if any of the others give bother you for your decision. It is a serious one and I'm glad that you thought about it thoroughly."

Armel nodded. "Thanks, Professor. For everything."

Xavier studied him as he walked toward the dormitories. After losing sight of him he reentered the kitchen.

"Kid's lying, Chuck," Logan revealed.

"I know, Logan, but about what and why?"

"You're the psychic, Charles," chimed Magneto.

"I do not make a habit of invading other people's privacy." Xavier turned his head down and continued quieter. "Besides, I can't."

Magneto snorted. "That snowglobe has mental defenses that 'the greatest telepath on the planet' can't crack. For shame, Charles."

"I never proclaimed to be 'the greatest telepath on the planet'," Xavier corrected. "And it's not any mental defenses that he has in his mind. It's something interfering with my telepathy. It makes everything. . . .fuzzy when I try to read him."

Magneto continued to give Xavier a hard time. "Fuzzy is the technical term?"

"Can't smell 'im well either. I don't think he sweats. It's a bad idea to keep him around," Logan added.

"Boys! What happened to trust? Innocent until proven guilty?" Ororo chided.

"Those are luxuries better fit for another time," Magneto explained.

"He is a boy that has made a few wrong choices in his life. He came here seeking help to turn his life around. How can we deny him that?"

"If he's a spy," reasoned Logan.

Now Ororo seemed to be arguing with Logan alone. "We don't know that."

The Canadian nodded toward Xavier. "Chuck can't read 'im."

She cocked her head back and narrowed her eyes. "I recall your mind being a mess when Charles found you as well, but we let you in."

Xavier interrupted, "Logan's memories were in a state of chaos, but that is different from Armel's situation." He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I feel something. . . unnatural about it."

"Perhaps it is a side effect of the experimentation," Ororo suggested.

"Perhaps," Xavier replied unconvinced, but leaning toward Ororo's side.

"Chuck . . ."

The professor made eye-contact. "We need to give him the benefit of the doubt, Logan."

"I don't like it."

"Then perhaps you should keep an eye on him," Ororo suggested.

"Fine," he grumbled. "What about his spot on my team? Gumbo could fill it."

"We are already down one mutant. A Gambit on an adamantium kabob will not help our situation," Magneto argued.

The professor nodded. "I agree. The teams stand as is. You will have to work with one less than the rest, Logan."

Magneto smiled at Logan's unhappy face. "When the versus training starts, we can give your team a handicap."

"When the time comes, I'll blindfold my team so yours stands a chance, Magneto," Logan replied.

"We'll see."

**Next up**: Magneto and Charles brief the mutants on how their lives will be changing, roommates fight, and a Marauder makes contact.


	10. Got You Scared

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_**There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Ten – Got You Scared **

Sunday morning was strangely quiet and uneventful. There were a few sets of footprints on the snow sprinkled ground where the Acolytes left to retrieve their things and Mastermind. Inside the mansion, the few conscious mutants busied themselves with homework, danger room programs, or Apocalypse research.

It wasn't until everyone assembled in the Hall that things became interesting. Most everyone was sitting in the same places as the night before: The Brotherhood and the New Mutants were once again exchanging barbs and spitballs; the X-Men were glancing suspiciously at the Acolytes, one of whom now sat among them; and Wanda was attempting to ignore John while he stared at her, and Amara prattled at his ear.

Aside from Piotr standing next to Kitty with the X-Men, Rogue was the only new addendum to the scene. She was perched up on a table next to Remy. Her gloved hand laid casually on the table with Remy's barely touching it as he leaned against the same table.

After surveying the group, Rogue leaned over to Remy's ear. "The old men have lost their minds if they think we could possibly work together ta beat somethin' that destroys worlds."

He responded with a shrug. "I've seen people who hate each other more t'an dis do less noble t'ings."

"This ain't thievin'."

"Dat wasn't de team I was talking 'bout."

"Oh." Rogue blushed underneath her painted face. Remy told her little about his life working for Essex, but she had a feeling for the atmosphere: Powerful people held together by blackmail, sick fetishes, and some silly string. It had been hard, but Gambit had managed to make a team of them despite his disgust with most of them. It was a dark time in his life, and she knew he hated to be reminded of it. Rogue squeezed Remy's hand and returned it to its previous position without anyone else noticing.

After the last Brotherhood member straggled in, with sleep dust in his eyes, Magneto stoically rose. He exuded some sort of energy that made everyone stop glaring, squabbling, or gabbing and pay attention.

"Things are changing. . ." opened Magneto. He responded to the "No, duh," commentary from the New Mutant peanut gallery with a glare, some chair rattling, and some clearing of his throat. "For the time being you are no longer X-Men, Brotherhood, or Acolytes. You are a mutant alliance with a common objective: Save the world from the Apocalypse."

Magneto's voice was clear and demanding. "We have a difficult, perhaps impossible task ahead of us, and it will be easier if you don't resist the changing wind. We do not yet know what we are up against; therefore, we must be prepared for everything."

Xavier rolled forward to continue. "We have assembled four mixed teams based on your powers –"

"- NOT on who likes who and other petty nonsense," Magneto added and scanned the mutants, his gaze resting longer on John than any other.

"Each team should be evenly matched offensively and defensively," said Magneto. "Each team has _the potential_ to adapt and conquer any situation as well as any other. The key word is 'potential.' It will be up to you to master your own powers and work as a team to overcome challenges."

Xavier took the floor again. "You will have danger room sessions every day starting tomorrow. At first, you will work together combating the computer. After we feel that your team has mastered itself, the teams will combat each other, and the schedules will change.

"Not only will you be spending time in the danger room with your team, but you will also be spending meals with them. Each evening one team will be making dinner for the others."

Magneto pulled a few pieces of paper and tacks from his pocket. "These are your team assignments –"

Furniture squeaked and fabrics rustled as the mutants mobbed Magneto.

"I'm not finished," he roared and held the papers above his head by the metal tacks. The mutants froze and slipped back into their seats. Lowering the pages, Magneto cleared his throat again. "It has come to my attention that some children have not been attending school –"

"Ex-PEL-led," sang someone from the X-side of the room.

Chairs rattled in response to the interruption. "No matter. That has changed as well. Everyone under eighteen will be attending Bayville High starting tomorrow. We have already discussed the matter with the superintendent."

"We don't want to go back, yo!" Todd objected. Others mumbled in agreement.

Arrogance radiated off Magneto. "Again, that doesn't matter. It is a danger to the team and the mission to have an uneducated member. I will not see a member of my team die because he did not know that water conducts electricity."

"Actually, it doesn't," piped up the blue hairy teacher behind him. Magneto's eyes narrowed, and he slowly turned. There were few things he hated more that being publicly corrected. "Excuse me?"

Oblivious to Magneto's hostility, McCoy explained. "Pure water doesn't conduct electricity. It's a common misconception. It's the impurities, all of the dissolved ions, in the water that conduct electricity." He smiled a toothy grin, having educated a new individual.

"I'll remember that next time I stand in a bottle of Dasanti," Magneto growled.

Ignoring his friend's childishness, Xavier rolled forward. "There is one more thing –" The room groaned. "By now I believe you have all heard of Dr. Nathaniel Essex and his team. These are very dangerous people that should not be forgotten. We believe that any one of you could be targeted by them. They are not likely to attack here, but once you leave the premise, for school, for the movies, for a run, you may be in danger. Before, the X-Men were asked not to leave without a friend. This will now apply to all of you. We are also initiating a new system in order to detect a possible problem as soon as possible." Xavier pulled out a blank book from his lap and held it in the air. "This book will be near the main doors. When you leave, aside from going to school, you will write your destination, the expected time of return, and when you do return in the book."

"No way!" Pietro zoomed to the front of the room and gestured with his hands. "It's no one's business where I go. And I'm sure as hell not taking one of these lamos on my dates. I don't double."

Freddy stood up slowly and deliberately. "Yeah! This is a. . ." He snapped his fingers to help remember the word, "invasion of privacy." Words of agreement rang out from all sides.

"It's like a prison!"

"I'm not doing it!"

"Why don't we just not go to school? Problem solved."

"I say we vote!"

"This is not a voting matter!" shouted Magneto over the objections. He thought Charles was overacting on the matter as well, but he knew they had to appear to have a united front in order to maintain ultimate, unquestionable authority. "You _will_ do it."

Trying to smooth over Magneto's blunt order, Xavier added, "It's for your own safety."

The crowd roared again: "I'd rather take my chances."

"Why don't you just fit us with those GPS microchips lazy parents are buying up like Tickle-Me-Elmos?"

"No one would waste that much money to be able to find you."

Armel, who had been sitting silently next to Scott and Jean, dramatically rose. "Listen!" he shot out. The tone in his voice was dark and made the hair on the back of one's neck stand on end. "If Essex wants you, you are practically his already. He's a genius and he loves a challenge. I doubt this book will save you, but it could give your friends here a few more hours to try and find you. You might not be entirely broken by the time they find you. Your best hope is that your powers are so bore that he sees you as an ant on a sidewalk." He sat down. The room blinked. Someone coughed, but no one spoke.

The papers that had been hovering behind Magneto's back flew to the bulletin board near the entryway. "Now that that is settled, you may view the team rosters." Everyone stampeded to the board.

* * *

Back in his office, Xavier sat calmly behind his desk, waiting for his students to confront him about their team assignments. He had just finished a chapter on Tibetan myths when his first student knocked.

"Come in, Scott," he called as he bookmarked a page. "Do you have a question?"

The young man stood next to the chairs on the other side of Xavier's desk. Scott shook his head. "No, I wanted to thank you for leaving a spot open on my team for my brother."

"It was the best place for him. Young Alex will need someone he trusts and respects to mentor him in the use of his powers and combat. Also, Ororo as team leader will ease him into the transition. With Warren also being fairly new to combat, he will have someone at his level. I'm sure you won't let Bobby push him around. I only hope neither Sabertooth nor Wanda intimidate him too much. When do you expect him to arrive?"

"I haven't been able to contact him yet. It was too early to call him before with the time difference."

Xavier nodded and watched Scott turn to leave, then hesitate. "Is there something else?"

Scott walked back over to Xavier's desk. "I noticed that you forgot to put Armel on a team."

Xavier shook his head. "No, we didn't."

"But I checked twice, and his name wasn't there."

"Armel isn't on a team. He confronted me after the fire last night and asked to be removed."

Xavier could hear offense and confusion in Scott's voice. "But why?"

"It is not my place to say. I told you all that this was a personal decision, and he decided for himself."

"But the Apocalypse . . . the world . . ."

"This is not something you have to convince me of, Scott. This is also something you should not pressure Armel to do."

Scott hung his head like an ashamed child. "Yes, Professor. Thank you." Scott opened the door, revealing a line of teenagers with Jean and Rogue at the head. Both entered, looking confused.

Before the door closed behind them, Rogue popped her question, "What's up with the extra practices for meh and Jean, Professor?" Jean nodded in agreement.

"Yes. Rogue, as you demonstrated on Friday, you have the ability to call upon the powers of those you have not touched recently –"

"And their personalities and memories," the southern Goth added dryly.

"Exactly. You are wielding this great power, yet unable to keep yourself in conscious control. Right now you don't have anyone in your repertoire, but when you do, you'll have to work out a way to say in control –"

"Ya don' have ta worry 'bout that, Professor. Won't happen."

"I'm sorry?"

"Don' plan on touching anyone ever again. The quiet in my head is strange, but it's safer that way."

Jean snorted. "That's not very realistic."

With narrowed eyes, Rogue turned to the redhead. "Ya sayin' Ah can't do it?"

"Not with a boyfriend like yours."

"Haven' touched him yet."

Jean rolled her eyes. "Please!"

A gloved finger poked Jean in the chest. "Ya may not be able ta resist his 'charm', but Ah can."

"I have my own boyfriend, thank you very much."

"Then why are ya thinkin' 'bout touchin' mine?"

"Maybe you should take off that glove, Rogue, because your mind-reading needs some help."

"So does yours."

"Ladies! Enough!" First, he turned to Rogue. "You know Jean is right about your resolution not to touch anyone. Accidents happen. Or you may find yourself in a desperate situation. If that happens, you need to be mentally capable of handling it."

Rogue crossed her arms and pouted. She cocked her head in Jean's direction. "But why _her_?"

Jean was insulted at Rogue's tone, but she had the same question. "Surely, Professor, there is someone better to help her."

"Jean, this is not only about helping Rogue develop her powers, but for you to develop your own as well."

"Professor –"

He stopped her with a raised hand. "With the exception of your power surge, you've always held back and avoided using your telepathy. You have a tendency to hesitate, which may prove fatal in the battles to come. No one has any idea of your limits, not even you."

"But if I do get out of control, no one can stop me!"

"Rogue can and did."

"But with Scott's –"

"Jean, you can become just as dangerous as Rogue was. That is why I need you both to test each other and yourselves. That is why you are both on Beast's team and why you must work together to control your powers. Just as it is not realistic for Rogue not to touch anyone, it's unrealistic for you to lock away your powers and potential. They may break away again, or perhaps you will need them one day."

Jean shifted her weight but refused to look ashamed. "I understand, Professor."

"Very good, ladies. If either of you needs help planning your sessions, my door is open. Oh, and please back Mr. McCoy up whenever possible. I know Mr. Alvers, Mr. Duke, and Mr. Crisp can be a handful when faced with authority figures." Xavier wheeled over to the door and opened it. A fight was breaking out in the hallway. A vase crashed and shattered on the floor. "Now, if you would. It seems I have other appointments waiting."

* * *

The door to his bedroom squeaked open, sending a stream of bright red light in. It wasn't actually red, but that's how he perceived it.

"Hey, Cyc." Armel slid in with a heavy plate balanced on his hand. The smell made Scott's mouth water. "You missed the last meal. Tomorrow the blue guy's team is cooking. There was even entertainment tonight. The red chick . . ." The mutant finally took notice of Scott's drawn face, slouch, and love of the darkness. "-and what's got you spinning round the drain?"

"Huh?" Scott blinked and replayed Armel's words in his head, this time listening. "Oh nothing." He slumped back against the wall.

"Would some 'luxe pizza make it better?" Armel waved the pizza in front of Scott's face.

The X-Men shrugged. "Thanks." He took the plate and set it on his desk. He was hungry, but he didn't feel like eating.

His roommate was not convinced. "Really?" He paused, then turned the other desk chair around and sat cross-legged. "Out with it. 'You're depressing my plant.' (1)" He pulsed his leg impatiently. "Is it Jean?" There was a little excitement in his voice that he couldn't hide. "I could go search for some ice cream. That's more of the right stuff for that sort of thing."

Armel's hand barely touched the doorknob when Scott asked, "Why did you decide not to fight?"

"When? What? Who? Huh?"

He tilted his head up. "Now. The Apocalypse. With us." When Armel didn't answer immediately, Scott added, "For me, it seemed like the only choice. Fight, or everything I love could die."

Armel returned to his chair, sat, and looked pensive. Eventually, he shrugged. "I've never been much of a fighter. Essex put me in PR, remember?"

The corner of Scott's mouth twitched at the joke, but it couldn't be called a smile or even a grin. No one was buying that excuse. Armel sighed. "I thought about dying a hero, then I snuck a peek at who'd I'd be dying with."

"What?"

"Last night, during the fire. I zipped into the X's office and found the lists."

Scott paused while he blinked, but no one saw it. "Why should that make a difference?"

"I was on a team with people I didn't know or trust: Wolverine, Shadowcat, Pyro, Quicksilver, Cannonball, and Colossus. Plus that little brunette annoys the crap out of me."

"Don't you want to do what you can to save the world?"

"Look at me, Cyc. I'm one of the guys in the red shirts (2). Signing up for this means that I'd probably be dying in a not-so-friendly, in-your-sleep like my grandfather, but more like those-in-the-car-he-was-driving kind of way. After looking at the list of peeps I'd be dying with or possibly for, I wasn't too thrilled to line up on the front."

Scott turned away and studied his shoes. "Huh."

Armel crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "What's really bothering you?"

Shoes continued to be interesting to Scott, but he did reply. "My brother. He said 'No,' too."

"Did he tell you why?"

"Yeah." Scott picked up his head and let it flop back as if looking at the ceiling helped him remember. "He said that the hero-thing was my deal and he wasn't one. He said he knew I could do it without him and to call him when I get done saving the world. He wants to go camping." His head dropped for a second, then picked back up. "Oh, and he doesn't like cold or snow."

"Younger bro?"

"Yeah."

"This is kind of a big thing to put on a kid."

Scott shook his head. "Thing is I was so sure he'd say yes. I even had the Professor save a spot for him on my team." A new communicator sat on the desk. Scott snatched it for examination.

Armel's posture grew more attentive. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then asked, "Why'd you think he'd say yes?"

"It's the right thing to do," he replied as he fingered the communicator.

Armel snorted. "That's the reason? Because you didn't seem to take my decision like a knife to the heart."

"It's just . . . we're brothers. We're supposed to stick together." The communicator flew forcefully across the desk accompanied by a grunt.

Armel raised an eyebrow at Scott's lame attempt at expelling his anger then said, "Brothers are still two different people."

"But whenever he's in trouble, I don't let anything stand in my way."

"But are you in trouble? Or are you looking for trouble?"

Scott shoved his chair back and stood up, throwing his arms in the air. "The whole world is in trouble!"

Armel's eyes moved left and right, following Scott's pacing form. "And who asked you to die to save it?"

After stopping briefly to pick the communicator, Scott continued pacing. "No one. But if I don't, who will?"

"Who asked your bro?"

"I did." Scott halted and turned to Armel. "So?"

"And he knows you'll do it or die trying, And if you don't make it, he figures he's toast anyway, so why bother? He believes in you, and he doesn't see himself as a hero."

"But he can be!" Scott's gaze pierced Armel. "And so can you."

Armel pointed at the X-Men. "_You_ think so. Not him, not me."

They sat in silence for a minute. Scott tapped the communicator on his desk. "Maybe I should call him again." He reached for his laptop.

Armel pushed the screen closed. "Call him tomorrow. Or maybe the next day even. Give him some time to think it over."

Scott shoved his chair back and moved to the window. He sighed. "He won't change his mind."

Armel shrugged. "Maybe."

Scott shook his head again. "I can't believe I insisted that he be put on my team already. I was so sure. . ."

"Hey, I'll make you a deal." Armel stepped toward Scott and put his hand on the other's shoulder. "If your brother says no, I'll fill his spot on your team."

Surprised, Scott spun around. "Really? Why?"

"What else am I going to do all day?" He shrugged then put his arm around Scott, leading him back to the cold pizza on the desk. "You risked your life taking me in. If this 'saving the world' thing is that important to you, I guess I should repay the favor." Armel slid the plate toward the X-Men. "Now eat your dinner."

* * *

The door to Rogue and Kitty's room swung open. The light flipped on. Rogue headed to her dresser to grab a sweater while Remy strolled in behind her.

"Dinner was. . . memorable," he recollected. His lips smacked together, savoring the lingering flavor of pizza sauce and barbeque chicken on his tongue. Remy sat down on the bed and watched his girlfriend.

Rogue pulled the black fleece over her head. "What was your favorite part?"

"When Toad blocked Wanda's glare at Amara, and she hexed him into the _petite_."

She smoothed out the creases of her sweater and picked off a few fuzz balls. "Really? Ah thought it was funnier when John laughed at Amara with pizza sauce running down her face, and she flamed up, setting the table cloth on fire."

Remy chuckled and shook his head. "I didn't know Freddy could move dat fast."

"When fresh pizza is at stake, Freddy rivals Pietro." Rogue sat on her bed a safe distance from Remy. "Ya know, you're kinda lucky that happened."

He cocked his head to the side. "Why?"

"Ah figured ya only had 'bout two more minutes 'fore Petey spontaneously combusted you with his mind."

Remy shrugged. "Didn' notice."

"How'd ya manage that?! He was glarin' at ya more than –"

"Who's de new guy?" Remy interrupted.

Rogue leaned back, confused. "Who?"

"Al-something. Sat next to Jean. 'Glass-man'."

"Armel." Rogue shrugged, not knowing what to say about the new guy. "Some stray Scott brought home. Scrambler and Wisdom were chasing him. I don't like him, 'though it was nice he asked everyone 'bout their food allergies."

"But he didn't ask everyone. He only asked Stormy, Bobby, Wanda, McCoy, Lance, Ray, and Freddy." Remy rubbed his chin in thought.

"Maybe he asked the others when ya weren't lookin'."

He shook his head. "Non."

"Ah know for a fact ya weren't followin' him all day."

Remy sighed. "Maybe. But even if he did ask everyone, who asked him to?"

Rogue shrugged. "Ororo, probably."

"Non, asked her. And the other adults."

"Maybe he wanted to help since he's not on a team."

"Dat's what Stormy suggested."

"But ya don't buy it."

"Non."

"What do ya think he's up ta then?"

"Don' know." The ring from Remy's telephone interrupted their conversation. Pulling it out of his pocket, no number appeared in the caller ID. He transferred it to voicemail and returned the phone to his pants.

"Who's that?" asked Rogue.

He shrugged. "Don't know. Probably telemarketer."

Both looked up when the door swung open. The minute Kitty entered, the smile dropped off her face, and the temperature dropped a few degrees. "Oh. You're here too."

Rogue didn't understand Kitty's strange attitude. "What? It's only eight o'clock. Ya wanna go ta bed that early?"

Kitty shook her head and busied herself in her corner of the room. "No."

"Then what was with the 'Oh. You're here, too?'"

"Let's just say that your boyfriend isn't very high on my list right now. 'kay?"

"Since when? Ya always giggled helplessly and winked every other time he was here."

Kitty looked at the ceiling, pretending to think. "Now, I don't know. Maybe since he, like, kidnapped Piotr's brother and won't tell him where he is."

Shooting up from the bed, Remy held his hands up defensively. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! I never kidnapped –"

Rogue took a step in front of him. "He never kidnapped him! If anythin' Petey should be thankin' Remy for getting' his brother out o' Russia's Area 51."

"I wouldn't say dat –" Remy began.

Rogue shoved him back. "Ya ain't helpin'."

Kitty pointed at the boy beyond her roommate. "He even admits it!"

Rogue again stepped between Kitty and Remy. "Granted Remy's done some bad things, but Petey's the one with his head in the ground now!"

Kitty stood on her tip-toes to be closer to Rogue's face. "Oh, ho, no, no, he isn't! He's not the one keeping secrets while pretending he was his friend."

"What was he supposed ta say? 'Hi, nice ta meet ya. Ah rescued your brother from the Russian government but haven't see him since Ah turned him over ta a mad scientist'?"

"Your boyfriend would have if he wasn't such a self-centered, inconsiderate prick!"

"Well, at least he's not a simple-minded blockhead!"

"Simple-minded?! If anyone is simple-minded here, it's him!" Kitty pointed to Remy again. "All he ever thinks about is, like, boobs, ass, and sex!"

Remy slipped in an addendum to lighten the mood. "Ass first, then boobs and sex."

A glare from Rogue made it clean that it hadn't worked. "Shut-up, swamp rat!"

Kitty threw her arms up in the air. "He's such a pig! I don't know how you stand it!"

"He's also forgivin', understandin' and has an imagination, unlike the dopy armadillo that hangs on your arm!"

Too involved in their argument, neither noticed Remy slipping out on the balcony to answer his phone. "Bonjour."

Remy's heart froze when he heard a familiar voice reply, "'ey ya, mate! 'ow are things?"

"Wisdom?! How'd you get dis number?"

"Easily. I was a wee bit upset when you didn't pick up the first time I called. Too busy shagging your skunk-'eaded pet? Since you're living under the same roof, it must be a lot easier to sneak about."

Now Remy's blood ran cold. "How'd you know dat?"

He could hear the malevolent grin on Wisdom's face. "You 'ave no idea what all the Marauders can do now."

"Yet you don't have not'ing better ta do t'an make crank calls to Remy. Malice finally get top dog over you?"

"Ha, ha. I've got you scared, now, 'aven't I?"

His phone snapped shut, hanging up on Wisdom. Immediately after Remy shut off his phone, Rogue popped her head out onto the balcony. "What are ya doin' out here? It's freezin'!"

"Dat why you got a blanket on your head?"

"No, we've got ta find meh another bed."

Remy smirked and opened his mouth, but before a word could come out, Rogue replied, "No." She turned back into her bedroom, now absent of Kitty, but left the balcony door open.

"You didn' even hear –"

Rogue stopped and looked over her shoulder. She let her comforter fall down her back like a shawl. "Ah know ya well enough what dirty things were floatin' around in that head o' yours. The answer's no."

"Aww…" Remy pouted as he followed her down the hallway.

* * *

(1) "…You're depressing my plant," is a line from the Nancy Drew TV movie. Yes, it sucked, but I still watched it.

(2) As most Trekkies know, in the original _Star Trek_ series the ones in the red shirts or without names on away missions are the ones to kick it.

To make things easier, I'm going to list the team line-ups here in case people don't want to read this entire chapter figure it out in-context:

Beast – Jean, Rogue, Remy, Ray, Lance, and Freddy.

Storm – Scott, Sabertooth, Wanda, Warren, Bobby, and Havok (Armel?).

Wolverine – Kitty, Piotr, John, Pietro, Armel, and Sam.

Magneto – Mastermind, Kurt, Amara, Roberto, Todd, and Jamie.

**Vote**: What should Logan's nickname for Armel/Prism be: Spyglass, Shiny, Sparkle(s), or ???(your suggestion)???


	11. Truth or Fiction

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_**There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Eleven – Truth or Fiction**

Before the most of the world was awake that Tuesday morning, Ororo and her team of half-conscious and grumpy mutants were in the Danger Room practicing the basics: She worked with Warren on flying maneuvers while Scott helped Bobby, Armel, and Wanda aim their powers. Having more or less mastered stationary targets, Cyclops enlisted the last member of their team Sabertooth as a moving target.

"Now, Sabertooth can heal from just about anything, but let's keep the power turned low," Scott ordered the others. Bobby shrugged, Wanda pouted, and Armel's face screamed inexperience mixed with determination not to look the fool he had been during stationary target practice. His New Mutant issue uniform didn't help his fledgling look.

He bit his lip. "You sure I can do this, Scott? Maybe I should go back to shooting the bottles. They don't bite."

Smiling a reassuring smile, Scott wrapped his arm around the new Newbie's shoulder. "Of course you can do it." The arm dropped, and Scott took his position. "And if you can't, then you'll at least get a good run in."

"Cardio? That's my consolation prize? This carnival sucks." Armel shuffled to get in line behind Bobby and Wanda. Scott nodded to Sabertooth, and the two began hitting and dodging. Scott made nine tags out of ten attempts: Seven hit the target Sabertooth wore on his chest and two hit directly on the bulls-eye. The Witch stepped up to the plate.

Up in the observation room, Professor Xavier and Logan sipped tea and gulped coffee respectively. Logan smirked as he watched his age-old enemy. "This is gonna be good."

After a fruitless search for a coaster, Xavier set his cup of tea on the safest surface he could find. "Is that why you decided to join me this morning, Logan?"

"Nope, but I woulda hurt something if I had missed this." Down below, a glowing piece of equipment fell from the wall and hit the target on Sabertooth's chest. Logan chuckled, disrupting the perfect rise of the steam from his coffee.

"We do record all of the Danger Room sessions."

Logan managed to turn his attention from the "Everyone Hexes Sabertooth Show" to shake his head. "It's not the same, Chuck."

Silence fell between them, interrupted occasionally by a soft chuckle. Xavier cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I drew you away from your hunt for Mystique."

Logan shrugged and continued watching the practice. "Trail was going nowhere."

Psychologist mode clicked on in Xavier's head, and his tone reflected it. "I know you felt it was important for Rogue -"

"But it's more important for me and 'Ro to be here. Right?"

Xavier hid his surprise. He pressed on in psychologist mode. "You don't agree?"

Setting down his empty cup, Logan shook his head. "No. This is bigger."

"So, why are you here this morning?"

"I'm an early riser."

"Who usually starts his morning with a bike ride, a newspaper, and a coffee far away from teenage drama of the Institute." Xavier wheeled a closer look at the practice. Following Logan's eyes, he found the reason. "You still suspect Armel?"

"You too?"

"I wouldn't say that, but I am curious as to why he agreed to be on Scott's team so soon after declining to participate at all."

"Then why'd you let him get what he wanted?"

"It seemed the best course of action to discover any hidden intentions." The Professor leaned closer to the window. "Have you noticed anything this morning?"

"He wants us to think that he can't hit the broad side of a barn."

Xavier's voice was one of reason. "Perhaps he _can't_ hit the broad side of a barn. The simplest solutions are most often correct."

"It was too calculated. He's holding back."

Xavier shook his head. "You're being paranoid, and your paranoia is not proof."

"Then watch this." Logan pointed down into the room below where Armel was taking his turn at shooting Sabertooth.

Anxious to begin, the Newbie shifted his weight from foot to foot while holding his crystal hands like pistols. "Okay, I'm ready."

Having cracked off the last bit of ice from his fur, Sabertooth looked up and snorted. "I wish I brought a magazine." The course began.

Five thin beams of pink light missed Sabertooth before he began taunting Armel. "Are your eyes open, Princess?" Armel's eyes narrowed.

One shot almost singed the back of his pants, but was more than easily dodged. "The target's on my chest, not my foot."

Armel growled, but his next shot was another wide miss. "Maybe you could hit me if you pretended I was Red-eye's ass." The barbs continued from Sabertooth's mouth.

In the control room, Xavier rubbed his chin. "It seems that Sabertooth is giving Armel a harder time than the others."

"That so?" Logan attempted to keep his face stoic, but a small twinge at the corner of his mouth gave him away.

"Do you have any suspicions as to why?" asked Xavier.

Always facing the scene below, Logan shrugged, then smirked, knowing the gig was up.

The Professor sighed. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." He took another sip of his coffee. "I may have told Sabertooth that Shiny was new and he should take it easy on him."

"Logan . . ."

"What?"

Down below, Sabertooth finished the course without a scratch. Catching the younger mutant, Sabertooth yanked him off the ground and held him at eye level. "You'll be the first to die when the time comes." He smiled, then dropped him to the ground.

Unable to catch himself, Armel sprawled on the Danger Room floor. He pulled himself to his knees, picked up a chunk from his palm and re-fused it into this body. He glared at the retreating mutant. A hand reached down to help him up.

"Don't worry about it, Armel," said Scott as he pulled him to his feet. "This is why we're practicing."

"I want to go again," he growled.

"Are you sure?" Scott asked. Armel nodded. The leader shrugged. He punched a few buttons on a remote he held in his hand. "Okay, if you're sure. Tell me when you're ready." The Newbie shook out his arms and legs to loosen up. He walked in a small circle, cracking his neck.

Over his shoulder, Sabertooth chucked. "What are you waiting for? Deciding whether to change your wet pants first?"

Armel's eye twitched. Then he ripped his shirt off over his head and growled. A plethora of colors burst from his crystalline chest and stuck Sabertooth in the back, sending him face-first into the Danger Room wall.

In seconds, Bobby was doubled over in laughter. "You shot him down with a rainbow! How more gay can you get? Forget Prism, you should be Gay Bear!"

Breathing heavily with eyes still narrowed, Armel glared at Bobby. He raised his right hand to his shoulder, hand still mimicking a gun. Before he could take aim, a gust of wind blew down between them.

"Armel!" Ororo landed softly on the ground, Angel at her side. "What is the meaning of this?"

"He gave Sabertooth his Gay Bear Stare!" Bobby fell to the ground in laughter.

"Bobby!" Ororo snapped. She raised her head to look at the shirtless Newbie. "Would you like to explain yourself?"

Armel stared at his feet. "Uh, I got mad."

"Got mad? This was a training exercise. You were supposed to be practicing on a moving target at a low -" She was interrupted by deep-throated laughter.

"Shut up, Windy." Sabertooth marched up to Armel and slapped him hard on the shoulder. His arm cracked and fell to the ground. "Didn't think any X-Man had the balls to shoot someone in the back." Bending down to retrieve his arm, Armel looked up over his shoulder at Sabertooth. The expression on his face was unreadable.

The large cat turned to the Danger Room door. "Now if only he could hit a barn with something smaller than a bus, he might make something of himself." When the doors closed behind him, Ororo resumed her lecture for the remaining members of her team.

Logan turned from the window and leaned against the console, crossing his arms. "What do you think now, Charles?"

His wheels squeaked as he rolled backwards. His hands folded under his chin while he replayed the scene in his head. "I am more assured now of his lack of combat training. His blast was unfocused. He was angry, desperate, and overcompensating -"

Pushing off the console, Logan snorted. "Is that what you see, or what you want to see?"

"I could ask you the same question."

* * *

The doors to Charles Xavier's office flew open with Magneto storming in after. Although his cape had been discarded after his team's three o'clock danger room practice, he was still red-faced from yelling at them. "Charles, I need you to get on Cerebro. Wanda did not come home with the other students. She's missing again."

Xavier, who barely jumped at Magneto's entrance, didn't look up from the book he was reading. "She's not missing, Erik."

Stopping a meter from Xavier's desk, Magneto opened his mouth to retort before realizing that Charles didn't say that to calm him, but because he knew differently. The Master of Magnetism narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. "How is it that you always know more about my daughter than I do?"

A stiff page crackled as it turned. "I ask."

"I shouldn't have to ask. She's my daughter. She should tell me these things."

After marking his place with his finger, Xavier looked up from his book. "She's also a teenager. A very private teenager who feels lost and confused." His eyes fell down into the pages once more. "If it makes you feel better, I had to ask several times before I got a straight answer."

Magneto tapped his foot, waiting for Xavier to reveal more information. When he didn't, Magneto snarled, "So where is she?"

"She's visiting friends at the Winding Way."

"The what?"

"It's a natural goods store downtown. Mr. Alvers agreed to accompany her."

Magneto raised an eyebrow. "Is this a personal errand for you? Are you having bowel trouble, Charles?" Erik smiled at his jab.

Realizing that he wasn't going to get any work done, Xavier closed the book he was reading and set it on a pile of other musty books. Folding his hands in his lap, Xavier gave his old friend his full attention. "She's there to learn more about her powers."

A fist slammed on the desk, jolting paperweights and pencils a centimeter in the air. "You better not be sending her on some drug-induced spiritual journey!"

Keeping his own emotions in check at the accusation, Xavier paused. He gave his friend a familiar look that said, "Back off a minute or I tell you nothing." Xavier knew the truth would bring a more violent outburst and wanted more space between them. Once Erik complied, Xavier sighed and removed his reading glasses. "No, the women there are witches. They knew Agatha Harkness."

Another shade passed over Magneto's red face. His lips were thin, teeth set, eyes burning. "Where is this store?!" Magneto's finger flew into Xavier's face."My daughter is a mutant, not a witch! They can't teach her anything about her powers that I can't."

"You're wrong, Erik," Xavier said in his most calming tone. "'Magic' has been the only control Wanda has been able to use over her powers. Before Agatha Harkness started tutoring Wanda, her powers were completely erratic and strongly tied to her emotions. Now, at least, she can exhibit some control and focus, although it is not absolute. You saw what she did subconsciously Saturday night. She is far from being in control."

"That was only a temper tantrum. She'll grow out of it."

"Only with help from the witches. I've had three students recently have violent development of their powers. I wish to avoid another power surge situation."

"It is not your decision! I do not trust them. I do not appreciate you going behind my back and sending her there."

"I didn't realize you were ignorant of her magical training. She had met them before our sessions began."

"Witchcraft is a hoax." Magneto paced Xavier's office. "She should be training here."

"There is no one here suitable to train her," Xavier argued. "Don't think of it as magic, Erik. Think of it as an ancient natural knowledge."

"I cannot and will not. After today I forbid her from going there."

"I can't let you do that."

Stopping, Magneto tilted his head so that only part of his face that was visible was his glowing eyes. His voice was icy. "She's my daughter. You have no say in the matter."

"Erik, it is more than that-"

With his curiosity peeked, Magneto's anger subsided into frustration. He threw his hands in the air. "There you go again, Charles. I called your hand five minutes ago, but you never show all your cards."

The pile of books on the desk drew Xavier's eyes. "What do you think created the second key?"

"What?"

"How was that spider created from putting two rocks together?"

"How should I know?" Magneto shrugged. "And what does this have to do with my daughter?"

Xavier fingered the faded cover of the top book. "Make a guess."

Magneto rolled his eyes but played along. "Some chemical or nuclear reaction with minerals in the halves –"

"Made a green, giant, translucent, intangible, yet destructive spider guardian?" He leaned forward in his chair. "A creature that knew where and what it was suppose to protect?"

"I called, Charles. You don't have to play these games and try to make me feel inferior."

Relaxing in his chair, Charles looked Erik in the eye. "I suspect it could be a form of magic."

He chuckled. "Seriously, Charles? I think someone is lacing your medicinal pot with something."

"It's only a guess, but I'm not ready to discount the possibility." Ignoring Erik's close-minded noises, Xavier continued, "Practically every historical culture has a witch, shaman, voodoo doctor, or some other mystical person. Whether that society embraced them or shunned them, they were there."

Crossing his arms, Magneto said, "I still don't see what this has to do with my daughter."

"Those women, or perhaps others they know, could have the knowledge we need to find and defeat the Apocalypse. They could be allies."

"But why my daughter?"

"She already has a connection with them. They trust her and have bonded with her. Not to mention the benefit she is receiving by learning how to control her powers."

He thrust his body toward the desk and leaned over so his face was at Xavier's level. "They have nothing to teach her!"

"Why don't you let her decide that? Ask her when she returns. If she thinks they are as useless as you do, then I'll send Ororo to talk to them."

"I don't have to ask. She's my daughter. She'll trust and respect my opinion."

Now Xavier raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I don't believe Mastermind did so much of an overhaul of her mind as to make that possible."

Magneto's eyes narrowed. "I thought we agreed not to discuss that, Charles. I thought we agreed not to discuss _any_ of my parenting tactics."

"As your friend and your daughter's psychologist, I need to tell you –"

"No, I think you've lectured me enough for today." If Magneto was wearing his cape, he would have flung it in Xavier's face as he spun around and stormed out of the office as violently as he arrived. Xavier massaged the bridge of his nose, replaced his reading glasses, and sighed.

* * *

The sidewalk was in disrepair, bumpy and broken. Lance and Wanda skidded across the frozen puddles as they made their way through the side streets downtown.

Lance tossed back the last of his coffee. The silence between them was killing him, although Wanda thought nothing of it. Finally he cleared his throat and asked, "Did your second day of school go any better?"

"No, just as horrid."

"Did you try the routes that Rogue told you about so you could avoid the crowds?"

"Yes, but it isn't that much better."

"How many people did you send to the hospital today?"

"None." Out of the corner of her eye, Wanda caught Lance's eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Well, none intentionally."

"You're lucky that no one's found out it was your fault."

"That's the beauty of improbability powers."

"If you don't get it under control soon, someone's gonna figure out where those blue bolts are coming from."

Wanda snorted. "You give humans too much credit."

"Principal Kelley is _looking_ for us to screw up. So are half the teachers and most of the students."

Wanda shuddered. "I hate all those people. I don't remember feeling like this when I went to school before."

"When did _you_ go to school?" Lance snickered then stiffened. It was too late to take back what he said, so he instead hoped she didn't hear it or thought it was a joke.

His hopes were shattered in the freezing wind that carried Wanda's voice. "I didn't go to Bayville High with the rest of you?"

His head fell down, his bangs acting as blinders to Wanda's gaze. "Uh, no." Lance couldn't lie. He couldn't be like Pietro and the others. Wanda deserved better friends than those that would go along with such a farce.

"I. . . I don't remember. It's all kind of hazy." Wanda rubbed her temple, struggling to remember. Her steps became less solid. One off-step made her graze Lance's arm. He held his breath and tried to help her regain her balance. Although stumbling, she refused Lance's arms and leaned up against an apartment building. "I had to have gone to some kind of school, right?"

Her piercing eyes locked onto Lance. He tensed. She'd believe him if he told her the truth, right? They were close friends, at least. She'd be pissed at first, but she'd get over it.

Pietro's voice rang in his head, warning him of the consequences of Wanda remembering her past: coma, psychotic breakdown, etc. That couldn't be true. It had to be just something Pietro or Mastermind made up so no one would try to help her and to keep themselves out of trouble.

Except that didn't explain the migraines nor the witch across from him struggling to hold herself up against a brick wall. She fumbled in her pocket for her medication. He almost handed her his coffee cup before he remembered it was empty. It didn't matter; she tossed the pills back easily without any liquid.

She looked up at him, eyes waiting for an answer. He hesitated too long; he had to answer now. If he said the wrong thing or if she didn't believe him, game over. Truth or fiction? Friend or scum? Conscious Wanda or incapacitated Wanda? "I think Pietro mentioned a private tutor or something once," he mumbled and concentrated smashing the last bit of ice in a standing puddle.

"A private tutor?" She leaned her head back, but the pain seemed to leave her face. "You're right. That must be it. I probably worked myself up in my last school so much that Father took me out." She pushed off the wall and lead Lance down the street. After a few steps, she stopped. "Then why did he put me right back in?"

"Maybe he thinks you're old enough to handle it now?" Lance couldn't believe he was covering for two-faced Magneto. He deserved to be thrown into a dumpster and rolled into the river.

"You think so? He didn't think I could handle the mission in Florida (1), but maybe I proved something to him…."

_That you'd give it up to an asshole with an accent?_ Lance's mind sneered.

They stopped in front of a building with large front windows draped in shear black material and strings of white sparkling lights. "Look, we're here," Lance announced with relief. A change of subject couldn't have come at a better time. He surveyed the street, but the only place to sit was the window ledge. "Should I wait out here, then?"

A few steps from the glass door, Wanda turned and looked at him as if he was crazy. "It's warmer inside."

Glancing over Wanda's shoulder through the door, Lance saw the store had a dim orange glow with knickknacks covering every horizontal surface. Strange things hung from the walls and ceiling; there was something that looked like either a root or a dried body part and another object in sight looked like some sort of sexual torturing device. Someone pushed open the door, and Lance received an intense whiff of incense. The city boy gagged and stumbled back to the window ledge. "I'd rather freeze out here in the air I can breathe."

Shrugging with indifference, Wanda entered the Winding Way without hesitation. "Fine. Later."

The concrete window ledge froze his bottom through his worn jeans. Lance flipped up the collar on his jacket in the hopes that it would protect his reddening ears. Over his shoulder, he saw Wanda and two older women pass into the back room while another set up a new display.

The boy passed the time by watching the people walking by, on the lookout for a young British boy with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Witchcraft was something from a movie to him, not real life, but Wanda believed, and it was obvious that these people were helping Wanda. Unless they were preparing her for a ritual sacrifice. Lance leered through the sheer black curtains. Maybe he should have gone inside. He took a deep breath and entered. The incense tickled his nose and throat.

"Need directions?" asked the blonde finishing up the display.

"Uh, no. I'm waiting for Wanda." He strolled up to the cash register where the items looked more ordinary and strummed his fingers on the counter. "Do you know what they're doing back there?"

Lorelei raised her eyebrow at the nervous tone she heard in Lance's voice. She turned to the display and replied nonchalantly, "In most coven meetings witches run around naked and rub blood and honey all over themselves." Lance paled. The blonde woman smiled to herself and continued, "Sometimes they play the banjo and sing about hedgehogs (2)."

Lance sighed then chuckled nervously. "You're joking, right?" There was no reply. "Right?"

Wiping her hands on her wool skirt, Lorelei stood up and faced Lance. "What do you think witches do?"

Lance shrugged. "I don't know. But I've seen a lot of strange things and even stranger people, and I'm supposed to watch her back."

"You can rest easy. There are no ritual sacrifices scheduled for today." She noticed Lance's nervousness fade, so Lorelei joked, "Those are usually on Wednesday nights. Thursday is trash day, so it makes disposal easier and less smelly."

A nervous chuckle tumbled out of Lance's lips, then silence.

Tired of the game, Lorelei rolled her eyes and moved behind the counter. "Seriously: A witch doesn't turn on her own." She paused, and flipped open an account book. "Unless you're a thousand year old, shallow, power-hungry bitch named Selene."

Guessing that she was telling the truth, Lance nodded. "Okay. I'll remember that. Uh, what does she look like?"

Lorelei didn't look up from her books. "Depends how long it's been since she devoured a soul."

Again Lance chuckled nervously. "Another joke...right?"

With silence then a sigh, Lorelei reached into the glass case under the register. "Here, take this." Between her fingers was a small, glass, white flower. "You'll have better luck with this than a physical description (3)."

Before he was able to ask any more questions, two women, one leggy blonde and a shorter black woman, emerged from the back room with Wanda following.

"How'd it go?" Lance asked, slipping the flower into his pocket to be forgotten.

Wanda shot a glare at the leggy blonde. "We're all still breathing."

Leena noticed the boy for the first time. "Oh! Is this the boyfri-" She took a more detailed survey of Lance, wrinkling up her nose. "- Nevermind. I was wrong."

Lance's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

The platinum blonde plastered a fake, condescending smile on her face. "Oh, nothing."

"Amora pumps everyone for information on their love life," said the other woman, who introduced herself as Margali. "She loves interfering."

"Except Leena calls it helping," Lorelei added.

"I do help!" Leena exclaimed. "And I do a phenomenal job, when they let me," she growled at Wanda.

"I call it 'none of your business,'" Wanda told the older witch. Wanda grabbed Lance's arm and dragged him out of the store. "I'll be back Thursday."

"I can feel your heart aching," Leena called after her. "I can make it better." The door jingled and slammed behind the mutants.

Thankful, yet confused, Lance jogged a few steps to catch up with the power-walking witch. "What was that all about?"

Wanda growled. A mail box burst open as they passed, the door smacking Lance in the side and knocking him to the ground. The witch didn't stop.

The sheet of metal slid off as Lance stomped up. "Hey! What was that for?! You coulda just said 'I don't want to talk about it.'"

The witch stopped and about-faced. "I don't want to talk about it," she said through clenched teeth.

"Fine," Lance grumbled and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. The walked in silence back to his Jeep.

* * *

A soft knock came on the door of his office. Charles Xavier looked up from behind his desk, littered with books and papers and a laptop. After jotting down one last ISBN number from the library website, he called to his visitor. "Yes, Kitty?"

Smiling she walked through the doors. "Hi, Professor! How was your day?"

Looking at her cheery face, Xavier couldn't help but return the smile. "Productive. How was school?"

The valley girl rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Like school. Not productive. Wow, that's a lot of books."

"Yes, I'm having trouble finding information on the Apocalypse. I have a feeling he wasn't always called that."

"You've looked through all these dusty old books page by page?"

"Not all of them yet. It's time consuming."

"Are any of these books online?"

"I've found some more in the online library database –"

"No, no, no. I mean are they e-books? Or maybe online journals?"

"E-books?"

"Books input online. Saves paper, and keeps the book from deterioration. They also make things easy to search with, like, keywords. They usually cost money, but it might save you some time."

"That…I'll never cease to be amazed by technology today. How do I find these e-books?"

"How about I show you after my danger room practice? I want to get some homework done before dinner."

"How is your team faring?"

"If it was anyone but Mr. Logan leading us, there's no way we could ever pull it together. St. John couldn't be more annoying, although Pietro is starting to pull into the lead. Sam just kinda sits in the background when he can get away with it. I don't think he feels very comfortable with the other boys. Piotr's doing okay . . ."

"You came here to talk to me about something. Is it Piotr?"

"Yeah…" Kitty's voice wavered, and her posture became shy. Looking up from her feet, but still playing with her hands, she said, "I kinda have a favor to ask."

To encourage her to continue, Xavier nodded. "Yes?"

"Well, you see –" Kitty paused for a big breath, then continued at warp speed. "Piotr's brother is kinda missing after being kidnapped by the government and then by Dr. Essex, and Piotr feels really lost and alone right now, so I thought maybe you could, like, use Cerebro and try and find him or something."

Xavier's brow furrowed. "Piotr? You want me to find Piotr and talk to him?"

"No, his brother. His name is Mikhail and he's a mutant that can –"

Xavier held up his hand to silence her. "Kitty, I would love to help reunite a family, but now simply isn't the best time. Especially if this matter involves Dr. Nathaniel Essex. We haven't the resources to devote to an investigation that could involve clashing with his team right now.

"We don't know when or where this Apocalypse will strike. We must focus our time and energy on learning about Apocalypse and trying to find and protect the third key."

Disappointed, Kitty stared at her shoes. "Oh, I understand. I guess."

He reached up to put a reassuring hand on hers. "I promise, the first thing I'll do after this is all over is find Piotr's brother."

"Okay, Professor." Kitty's head bobbed and she took a step toward the door. "Oh, and please don't, like, mention it to Piotr. I didn't tell him that I was going to ask you, and since we can't do anything right now, there's no point to bring it up."

"As you wish, Kitty, but tell him I'm here if he wants to talk about it."

"Yeah, sure." Her voice trailed off and she exited, leaving Xavier alone with his daunting mission.

* * *

(1) See _November Rain_: Chapter 11-13.

(2) Allusion to the witches Terry Pratchett's DiscWorld series, specifically Granny Ogg, my favorite.

(3) In Neil Gaimen's _Stardust_, Tristen and his dad carry a white snowdrop flower for protection against magic, given to them by the enslaved Princess Una. The movie is good, like a more modern, higher-budget _Princess Bride_. I felt the graphic novel to be . . .anticlimactic, although I did like the fact that Tristen and Evane avoid his mom's summons at the end.

**Next time**: A family feud, swan dive into Rogue's mind, and the hall closet becomes a crowded hiding spot.


	12. You Taught Me That

**A/N:** Been a long time. No real excuses for the wait except real life. Enjoy :) Review :D

* * *

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

_**There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Twelve – You Taught Me That**

The Hall was deserted except for one capeless leader, who was sitting facing the main doorway since his meeting with Xavier. Every person entering the mansion, checking the mail dump, or simply passing through to another wing of the house fell under Magneto's scrutiny. He was a fearful sight with his arms crossed over his chest and sweaty helmet hair glued to his forehead. Most everyone zipped in and out of the room without lingering.

Finally, his daughter entered the Hall, not from the front doors, but from another wing of the mansion. She didn't see her father but headed straight for the sign-in book.

Magneto leapt from his chair, kicking his helmet across the floor. "Wanda! What are you doing? How did you get into the house without me seeing?"

The Witch jumped when he yelled her name, but otherwise was indifferent to his questions. She picked up the pen and scribbled in the book. "I'm invisible."

Magneto grabbed her upper arm and spun her around, sending the pen flying. "I don't want to hear any of your lip. Where were you?"

Wanda tried to wrench her arm free; she was unsuccessful. Surrendering, she pointed to the sign-in book. "It's written right there. Read it."

His eyes wildly darted to the book, to see if the destination written had changed from the first time he looked. It hadn't. "I talked to Xavier. I know you didn't go for coffee."

Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed. She spoke through clenched teeth. "If you know, then why are you asking me?" The book and the vase of flowers on the table shook.

"I shouldn't have to go to Xavier-"

"Then don't," she spat, finally wrenching her arm free.

Taking a step forward, Magneto cornered her. "I'm your father. You should tell _me_ these things, not that beatnik!"

Wanda folded her arms over her chest and refused to look at him. "Is that all?"

"No." His face darkened. "You were associating with the witches again."

Without turning her head, Wanda lifted her eyes to look at her father. "So?"

"I ordered you not to!"

"No." Wanda flung her arms to her sides and closed the remaining distance between them. "You said not to have anything to do with Agatha. She's not there."

Although his voice was soft in volume, Magneto's irritation could be read with its harshness and articulateness. "I meant that you were to have nothing to do with witches." He paused, then added, "Any witches!" Wanda flinched, and some spit landed on her cheek. She didn't bother to brush it away or reply. Magneto took a deep breath and finished back at his original volume. "Do you understand?"

His eyes bored into her own. There was a wildness behind her father's eyes. She didn't know what it was, but it frightened her. She wanted to be as far from this man as possible. Wanda could feel the word forming on her tongue to lock her into obedience, but it never came out. Sparks of rebellion and self-respect prevented her from replying.

Taking her silence as a "yes," Magneto straightened and took a step back. They continued to stare at each other until Magneto coughed. "Good." He brushed a wrinkle from his shirt. "Very good. I will see you at dinner." He about-faced and marched away, snickering at Xavier's earlier warnings (1).

She could have let him go thinking that she would honor his wishes, except then he wouldn't know. Rogue and Gambit were right: Her father had no idea who she was (2). Before he left the room, Wanda called out to his back. "No."

Stopping on a dime, Magneto slowly turned, face reddening, shoulders rising. "What?"

"I'm going to keep seeing the witches." Wanda glowed with defiance and determination. Today, her father would learn who the Scarlet Witch was.

"Excuse me?" he growled through clenched teeth.

Despite the anger radiating from her father, Wanda stood her ground, doing her best to present a stoic calm. "You heard me."

People listening closely could hear Magneto's heartbeat increasing. It showed in the redness spreading from his face to his ears and neck. The muscles in his shoulders tensed. An ice cube placed on his head would have melted. He looked like a neckless, crimson bird, fluffing his feathers to appear larger and more fearsome. "How dare you vow to disobey me?"

"Oh, I dare." She felt a burning begin at the back of her head, but ignored it, pushing the flame to her eyes.

The change in Wanda's demeanor confused Magneto. He searched for a weakness in her voice, posture, but found none. The girl truly believed that she needed the witches. He needed a new tactic. The crimson bird, smoothed his feathers, relaxed his shoulders, revealing his neck, and his face lightened a few shades of red. When he spoke his voice was calm yet condescending. "You don't need the witches. Xavier's filled your head with this New Age nonsense, but you are not a witch. You are a mutant."

Magneto's patronizing only made her more angry. "You're wrong!" She took a step forward. "I am a witch. I'm both!" The vase of flowers flew off the table and shattered at Magneto's feet.

He stepped over the ceramic pieces. Magneto's voice was still composed, although a sliver of irritation had returned. "No, you're not."

Wanda stepped forward again, hands in fists at her sides. How could he deny something she felt in her every cell? "Yes, I am!" The doorbell rang and sputtered while the intercom buzzed without being pressed.

Unconsciously, the neckless bird reappeared as he approached his daughter. "There is nothing that they can teach you that you can't learn here."

Her brow furrowed, eyes narrowed, head tilted. It was so simple in her head, so her father's denial confused her. "No one here knows magic, _Father_!"

Magneto clenched his fists. "Magic isn't real, _child_."

If Wanda told some random kid on the street she was a witch, this ignorant response wouldn't surprise her. She'd, of course, correct his manner of thinking without hesitation, but her father had seen these things. Her powers were not solely the result of some mutated DNA, but something more intangible and spiritual as well.

This argument was completely absurd. If he believed in magic, then she, as a witch should train like one. Since he didn't believe, then no harm could come of her learning witchcraft aside from a waste of time. There was something more hidden inside her father that he wasn't saying. "Then what are you afraid of?"

Wanda again found the button to push. Magneto's eyes narrowed, and his faced flushed again. "I'm not afraid! You are my daughter, and you must do what I say!"

With her hands on her hips, Wanda snorted. "Ha! I _must do_ nothing! You taught me that."

"When?"

"Hundreds of times. How about when you didn't tell the world what Pow-R8 really is? You could expose them, but you don't!" An accusatory finger wagged in front of Magneto's face.

Surprised by his daughter's argument, Magneto's shoulders dropped, and his face faded to a natural color. His plans were flawless toward his goal of a world ruled by mutants. It was quite simple in his eyes. He couldn't understand why Wanda would want Pow-R8 exposed now, so early in the game. "That's not . . .I can't."

"You can, but you won't." Her head snapped to the side, sickened with the sight of her father. Her arms folded over her chest.

Magneto searched words Wanda would be satisfied with. "This is the best way to protect you."

"Protect me?" she snorted. "By not letting me learn to control myself?" The Hall lights flashed on and off. "By making me look like a mindless mutant dead-set on destruction? I'm not your blind foot soldier! I have my own mind, and I don't appreciate being used." Her eyes caught the glare off Magneto's discarded helmet under the end table. She hexed it to her hands, then threw it with all her might at the Master of Magnetism.

Magneto easily ducked the attack and drew the headgear to his hands. Looking at his helmet, he sighed and set it on top of the sign-in book. Then he brought out the coddling. "Wanda." He tried to put an arm around her, but she evaded his grasp. "You're too young to understand everything going on-"

"Then explain it to me." She turned to face him, her eyes boring into him. If he was fabricating her pseudo-image to the world, then she deserved to know why.

Magneto sighed and massaged his brow. To explain something so involved to a child would be ludicrous. He'd have to dumb it down so much, the beauty of his plan would be lost. Wanda needed to trust him.

While Magneto contemplated the feasibility of using Risk boards and hand puppets as visual aids, a white and green wind passed between them. It looped around the room before sitting on the sign in book. "Yeah, Father. I'd like to hear this one, too."

"Pietro, this does not concern you," Magneto growled.

"Really? Because you guys are yelling so loud, I think everyone's concerned." Pietro pointed to the Hall. "Or at least interested in the family drama. We should call E!. We could blow the _Kardashians_ out of the ballpark.

"Hey, Toad! Go swipe the punk's video camera. He's in practice, so the coast is clear." Todd dropped down from the chandelier. The speed demon gave him a double thumbs-up.

Father and daughter surveyed the Hall. A few heads poked up behind the furniture that Wanda wasn't unconsciously levitating. Magneto coughed, slightly embarrassed. "Perhaps we should take this someplace more private."

"Why?" Pietro asked. "I thought this was phasing into storytime. Who knows? Maybe everything will blur and go into a monochromatic flashback." His head snapped toward the hallway. "Great! Toad's back with the camera." Pietro zipped between his sister and father, putting his arms around both and smiling. "So, Father, start the explaining. Our future fans are waiting."

"I can't-"

"Won't," twins said simultaneously: Wanda with venom, Pietro with contempt. The front doors glowed and opened. Before they could hit any of them, Pietro dropped his arms and pulled his sister away from Magneto and the front doors. The doors slammed shut with Magneto's help.

Dropping Wanda on her bottom, Pietro yawned. "On a scale of one to ten, I'd give that performance a two." He ran closer to Magneto. "Really, Father, how do you expect to keep the viewers if you're not giving it your all? At least Wanda threw stuff."

Still sitting, Wanda rubbed where her hip bone hit the wood floor. "I didn't mean to," she mumbled, not sure of who she was siding with. Magneto, in denial of who she was, or Pietro, exposing her faults to everyone. Her defiant, confident manner was melting into the floor boards.

Although she mumbled, Pietro heard her. "Even better!" He fanned his arms out dramatically. "'You'll never know what will happen when Wanda goes out of control.'" He rubbed his chin. "Too long, but you get the point. Maybe we could interview those jocks you put in the hospital today." Wanda hunched her shoulders, and her eyes darted for all possible exits.

Magneto's scowl lightened. "Hospital?"

Although Wanda's mouth opened, she stayed silent. "Didn't you hear? Wanda doesn't play nice at school."

"There's no proof it was me," she managed to get out at a reasonable volume.

Pietro gestured to Todd. "Close up on my face." The egomaniac's face cleared of emotion for a second before his best minority victim face appeared. Pietro snorted. "Humans don't need proof. Once they figure out it was a mutant, they'll hang us all. Or at least they'll try." He winked at the camera, then whispered to Todd, "I think we could make that a good sound-byte."

"Pietro, enough!" Magneto boomed and moved Todd and the camera away from them.

"Why are you yelling at me?" Pietro asked. He paused to signal to Todd to continue recording. "She's the one who's sending people to the hospital." He sighed at Todd's shoddy camera work and took it from his hands. In another instant he was crouching at Wanda's feet.

"It's not my fault!" Wanda caught sight of Pietro below her and jumped. She hexed him out of the way. All the way to the icy front porch.

Magneto's cold voice sliced the air. "What did the human boys do to you?"

Still shaken up by the camera, Wanda ungracefully stood and mumbled, "Nothing. It just happened."

"What happened?" Magneto pressed.

Gripping the sides of her head, Wanda struggled to put her frustrations into words. The pain was growing in the back of her mind, but she ignored it. "I don't like it there," she finally managed to get out. "At school. There are too many people. Can't I get a private tutor like before? (3)"

Magneto raised an eyebrow. "Private tutor?"

"Like when you pulled me out of school before. . ." Her voice trailed off as searched her memories. Nothing was solid, things faded in and out. "Before. . ." she started again but couldn't finish. The light in the room began to burn her eyes. Her hands frantically searched her pockets for that small bottle of relief.

The next thing she knew, Pietro was kneeling next to her, shouting up at their father. "Look what you did!" He slipped a pill onto her tongue, and she swallowed. Wanda blacked out for another minute. When she regained her focus, Pietro was standing to full height, eyes level with his father's nose. ". . . She's freaking out, bringing people back from the dead (4), and you want to keep everything status quo. Well, I have a news flash for you: It's not working! What's the problem with letting her see the crone? She said she could help. (5)"

Magneto's eyes darkened. "You know nothing of witches, boy."

The son shrugged. "I don't care. Wanda's gonna keep seeing them."

"No." Magneto made a move to restrain him, but was too slow.

"Yes." And with that, Pietro picked up his sister in his arms and disappeared through the door and across the grounds.

When they stopped, Wanda pushed Pietro away from her. He dropped her onto the frozen ground on the same hip as before. "Why did you do that?" she asked with suspicion as she rubbed her injury.

Pietro didn't reply right away. He needed time to develop his angle. He couldn't have it going around that he actually cared for his sister. The others might see him as weak or use her to get to him. Instead, he squinted at playback on the camera. "I thought I had a chance at stardom. Who'd guess you'd be so boring on film?" He deleted the video and casually tossed the camera into the grass.

Wanda rolled to her feet and put her hands on her hips. "I'm serious, Pietro. Why'd you stick up for me?"

"I thought it was obvious. I guess I could explain it to you." He ran behind her and put his arm around her shoulders. He reminded Wanda of a smarmy TV personality. "You're my sister. To my perpetual annoyance, there is some kind of unwritten law that requires me to watch out for you. In short, since you obviously can't take care of yourself, somebody has to, and genetics forces the job on me."

An elbow flew at Pietro's stomach but missed. Wanda growled. A lower limb from a nearby tree, naked of its leaves, stretched out and smacked Pietro into a dormant rose bush. The vines encircled his limbs as Wanda approached.

"What kind of a 'Thank you' is this?" her brother exclaimed, his mask gone.

"I apparently needed to show you that I can more than take care of myself."

Pietro rolled his eyes. "Then why do you let Dad push you around?"

"Like you should talk," she sneered. "Your nose is usually so brown you'd-"

Anger flooded Pietro's face. "I defend you, and you insult me. I leave you alone, and you say I don't care. What is your problem? I'm sorry; I said that wrong. What are your _problems_, because you have more issues than an emo rock star?"

"I have issues?" Wanda stepped back with her brow raised. "You're the ADHD horndog who oozes ego and daddy complexes."

"Well, you-" Pietro stopped himself. He wanted to retort with a laundry list of her problems but couldn't remember which ones she still remembered she had. His father not only ignored his word and his worth, but denied him the pleasure of abusing his sister. He worked with what he had, even though it wasn't up to his par of insults. "You look like a wannabe bad ass and smell like wet dog."

"Whatever," she said, inconspicuously smelling her shirt. Pietro noticed and grinned. At least he could still get to her without his entire verbal arsenal.

When Wanda's hold on the shrubbery slacked, and Pietro burst into her face. "You know. I've had enough of this and enough of you." His finger practically picked his sister's nose. "You're so blind, bats won't ask you for directions. You're a waste of my time. I can't do right by you. And caring about me doesn't even register on your radar! Well, you can forget about me, because I'm gone."

"Good," she spat.

"You'll miss me when I'm gone. Everyone does. So long." Pietro took off and wasn't seen again until his team's practice after dinner.

* * *

Sitting on the balancing beam, Rogue swung up her legs and was on her feet in less than a second. Her footsteps were light and quick, slipping from one end of the beam to the other. Her stomach growled, upsetting her balance for a second. She gave up long before Jean on the half-burnt, half-frozen mess of a dinner Logan's team attempted to prepare, so she had time to waste before their special practice could begin. She'd scout out something edible later.

On Monday Jean and Rogue discussed how they could help each other and how to run practices. They also explored Rogue's head, eerily void of any other voices. The beach and ocean was empty. Not one face in the water. Rogue almost punched Jean when she commented on the dullness and lack of imagination of Rogue's mental universe.

They also found a few places Rogue hadn't consciously been before. One was an empty seaside factory that had once held the memories of those she absorbed. Now it looked like a tornado had gone through it. The marked crates were empty, shredded and burned papers flying around. Everything Rogue hadn't actively accessed before the purge had been destroyed. Since Rogue hadn't made a connection to most of the memories, they retained only their connection to the psyches. When the psyches were slain, the memories vanished as well.

The other was an alien-looking chair on stilts. It could have been a lifeguard stand, but the seat on top looked more like some sort of torturing device or electric chair. Both Rogue and Jean tried to climb it, but when they touched it, their hands burned. Jean tried to fly up telekinetically, but the higher she flew, the farther the stilts stretched. She did manage to catch sight of a marking etched into the side, but it wasn't familiar to Jean or Rogue.

Looking up at the machine, Jean spoke. "This removes all my doubt. You are a total masochist."

Tired of having her unconscious mind attacked, Rogue desperately threw out an insult. "How do Ah know ya didn't put that there?"

Jean let it roll off of her. "Because that would be pointless and a waste of time. Is there anything else here to explore?" she asked. Rogue replied with some inappropriate comments, then ended Monday's session.

Today, Jean wanted to follow Rogue's absorption process from a psychic prospective. Tonight was the last night she'd be alone in her own head. It hadn't been so long ago that her mind had been her own, knowing no different. It seemed like forever ago. Then Cody popped into her head, changing it all, followed by half the X-Men.

What was she doing that night? Oh, yeah, going to a party to please Irene. Her guardian worried about her antisocial behavior, and she went to pretend she had friends. Or maybe to try and make them. That was what she had told Irene, at any rate. She did make friends that night, not that she knew it at the time. Hell, one turned out to be her brother.

In a few minutes, she would be starting all over again. The annoying silence would be gone. The silence of the room ended as well.

"You cut out of dinner early," Jean said as she approached.

"Ya call that dinner?" Rogue raised her eyebrows to Jean's scowl. "Ya gonna lecture meh 'bout mah eatin' habits?"

Jean sighed. "Just don't pass out on me."

Rogue peered behind the redhead. "Only you? Told ya no one would volunteer fo'-"

The crack of space expanding and the smell of sulfur interrupted her. "Hello, Sis!" Kurt's bright white smile cut through the smoke.

"Kurt?" Rogue hopped off the balance beam and walked over. "Ya really want ta do this?" Rogue didn't even think her clinically insane friends would sign up.

"Of course! We're family! Family is there for each other." Rogue couldn't help but smile at his words and loving demeanor until he added, "No matter who they're dating."

The Goth groaned. "Not ya too?"

"The guy is sleazy." At the word sleazy, Kurt's face looked like he had eaten a lemon. "You're vay too good for him."

"Have ya even ever talked ta the guy?"

The fuzzy elf looked up thoughtfully. "Well, no, not exactly."

A half-grin of victory spread across Rogue face. "Try it sometime. He might surprise ya." Maybe if Kurt and Remy became friends, the others wouldn't be far behind. Her brother had that effect on people. If Kurt didn't think they were half-bad, the others would follow.

Jean sat down Indian-style on a mat. "Let's get down to business. I have some homework to finish with Scott."

Kurt winked and plopped down next to her. "'Homework?' So that's vhat they're calling now?"

Jean scowled; Rogue chuckled and gave Kurt a high five as she took her seat to complete the small circle. Taking Jean's lead, they all sat straight and relaxed. Rogue felt Jean enter her mind.

**Ready?** the redhead projected.

Rogue took a deep breath and nodded. She removed her left glove finger by finger. Aside from its paleness, her hand looked like any other. There was nothing to warn her or anyone else about the consequences of touching it. It was hard to believe that something so common could cause so much pain. It made her a thief: She stole pieces of people and their lives. It was a thief itself, robbing her of physical contact.

Professor Xavier purged her of her "loot," but now she was beginning again. Everyone told her it was for the best, but she couldn't help feeling guilty when she touched someone, even if they were willing. She would sometimes take private moments from them that were not meant to be shared.

**Rogue?** Jean asked. **Kurt's ready when you are**. Even though Jean never said it, Rogue could feel the urging in the redhead's words.

Looking at Kurt, Rogue saw his blue fuzzy hand extended lazily toward her. He trusted her, and she would rob him.

**You're not 'robbing' him. He's choosing to share with you**, Jean interrupted, reminding Rogue that she wasn't alone.

**Shut up,** Rogue projected back. **Ya don't know how it is.**

**You don't think I have some of the same thoughts whenever I use my telepathy? **Jean replied. **You let me in to witness your powers, yet I hear and feel all this conflict you have inside that you meant only for you. I try to stay out of it, but there comes a point when I have to say something. You aren't alone.**

**Yeah, Ah am. Ah'll always be alone. **Rogue sighed internally and externally.

Rogue felt Jean's growing frustration. **Do you want to do this or not? You can continue to be dangerous, or let us help you understand your powers. You have a choice.**

Rogue snorted. "Some choice."

Oblivious to the mental conversation, Kurt opened his mouth to ask what Rogue meant, when she squeezed his hand. Kurt's body fell backward while Jean pulled Rogue into her mindverse to study her powers.

A set of sliding doors opened to reveal the bridge of the _Star Trek USS Enterprise_. Jean, in O'Hara garb, sat in one of the navigator's seats. The redhead was studying Kurt's psyche bounding about the big screen.

Stepping out of the elevator, Rogue raised an eyebrow to the decor. "Yah serious?"

Jean held up her hands and claimed innocence. "It wasn't me. It was you and him." She pointed to the screen.

Wrapping her arms protectively around her chest, Rogue backed up into a console. This was her space. _Her_ mind. If a psyche could change the way it looked, what else could it do? Rogue membered all the villains she touched without a second thought. Even her mind wasn't her own. No wonder she was all screwed up. "He has power over my mind?"

Jean turned to the screen and said, "Only as much as you give him." She pressed a few buttons and the screen now played the transition of the fractured beach landscape to the current one, from Jean's point of view. "You were unhappy with your last mindscape, so psyche-Kurt made you a new one."

"Will this happen every time?"

Jean shrugged. "I don't think so. At least not after you settle on your own mindscape. We can set up some additional shields if it does." Psyche-Kurt popped back on screen.

Rogue breathed a sigh of relief, then took a second look at her mindscape. "Ah want something else."

Jean let her irritation slip out with her words. "Then change it."

"Ta what?"

Jean spun around in her chair. "I don't care. Although I wouldn't discount psyche-Kurt's idea. You might be able to develop an easier mechanism for organizing your mind using this as a backdrop."

"How?"

"Instead of an empty beach and a bunch of abandoned buildings, you have stations and places to fill with psyches." Jeans fingers glided over the console and psyche-Kurt appeared in Chekhov's station, spinning around in the chair. With another few buttons, he disappeared from the Bridge, but the monitor showed him cooking in the galley. "They would be in a place you could easily find them. I haven't learned much about the psyches themselves yet, but maybe keeping them occupied or knowing they are in a certain spot will help keep their personalities or memories from coming forth uncalled or trying to take over."

Rogue shrugged. "That doesn't sound like complete bullshit."

Jean rolled her eyes. "Thanks. Do you want to get started then?"

A one-cornered grin emerged on Rogue's face. She marched down the bridge and plopped herself in the captain's chair. "Warp speed ahead."

Jean smirked. "You are so a closet Trekkie."

Rogue blushed. "Shut up and drive." She swung her knees over the arm of the chair. Something cold and sharp burned her leg. "Ouch!" she screamed and fell out of the chair.

Jean didn't bother turning around. "You fell out of a chair in your own mindscape. That takes talent."

"Ah didn't fall!" Rogue bound to her feet and pointed to the arm of the chair. "The chair gave meh freezer burn o' something."

Her brow furrowed as Jean examined the arm. Unlike the other arm, it had a band of metal around it with a black button on the outside edge. There was an etching on the end of the button. "This is the same marking that was on the lifeguard chair." Jean attempted to press the button, but Rogue slapped her hand away.

"Don't go pushin' strange buttons in mah head!"

Jean rubbed her fingers, and stayed calm. "What does it do?"

Rogue straightened. "How am Ah supposed ta know?"

"We're in your head."

"Ya're the telepath."

Jean used her teacher voice. "It's still your head."

"Maybe it's something Kurt put in there," Rogue theorized.

"The chair was there before you absorbed him. Same markings. My guess is that when your mindscape changed, so did it."

"And now it's a button?"

Jean stood up and took a step back. "And now it's a button."

"Self-destruct?" suggested Rogue.

Jean raised an eyebrow. "You installed a self-destruct button in your own head? You truly are a masochist."

"Will ya learn another word o' the day?" Rogue snapped.

"You are vexatious."

Unbidden, Rogue's face produced a smirk. "Ah am." The smile faded when she looked back at the black button. "What could the button be?"

Jean shrugged. "I haven't seen anything like it in any other mind I've been in."

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jean's hand inching forward. "For now, let's avoid pressin' it then."

"Fine. I'll talk to the Professor about it later. Meanwhile, we have some work to do." Jean gestured toward the captain's chair, then took her own at the navigator's station.

* * *

Again, he was running for his life. It was so unfair. He didn't see the water on the kitchen floor. It was an accident that he slipped and multiplied, pushing Roberto on top of Amara. Jamie thought Roberto was smiling at first, but then Todd had to say something. He couldn't even remember what it was, but Roberto stormed after Todd, who easily hopped out of the way. Unfortunately, Jamie wasn't as fast. The Brazilian tripped over a number of Jamies and brought down a pile of dirty plates. It wasn't until after Amara laughed at Roberto that Jamie realized the danger he was in. The chase began.

In practice, Magneto told him that his greatest assets were numbers and misdirection. Instead of regrouping his clones to conserve energy, he sent them all off in different directions. Alas, Roberto wasn't easily fooled and was on his tail after only one mistake.

Another advantage Jamie had was that he knew most every good hiding spot in the mansion. He only had to put a little distance between him and Roberto. Jamie rounded a corner, his socks sliding on the hardwood floor. He let himself hit the wall, and sent his dupe running down the hallway. Meanwhile, the real Jamie hurried into the hall closet his shoulder had hit only milliseconds before. He shut the door as quietly as possible, but tripped on a misplaced shoe. Three Jamies now filled the floor of the closet, but they managed to keep from spilling out into the hallway.

After a few minutes, Jamie relaxed and merged his dopes. It was comfortable in the closet with only one of him. No sooner did he think that thought than the closet door flashed open and shut and another body stood over him.

"Hey! This is my hiding spot," Jamie exclaimed. Worried his call gave away his position, his hand flew to his mouth, and he listened hard for Roberto to return.

"Sorry, mate," the newcomer said. Instead of leaving, he plopped himself next to the New Mutant. "Need a break from the boys. They've done nothing but put me in the middle of their stupid fights all day."

With the little light radiating through the door frame, Jamie watched John's face alternate between a stern, unrelenting expression and a long, snooty one. The Aussie's voice changed between something that reminded Jamie of Arnold Swartzenager and Pepe le Pew. "'He can't be trusted,' 'he's an asshole,' 'he kidnapped my brother,' 'his eyes are too close together,' 'you're a man-whore,' 'grow up,' 'eat steel,' et cetera, et cetera."

John dropped the bad impersonations and slumped against the closet wall. "Though honestly, I'd prefer that to having Petey ask _me_ relationship advice since he won't ask Remy." The stern Australian face returned. "'Should I meet Kitty's parents this weekend? Is it too soon? What do I wear?'"

John turned to Jamie and threw his hands in the air. "Do I look like I care? Really." John paused his rant and sighed. "So, what are you hiding from?"

"Uh, Roberto." John's enthusiasm gave Jamie the energy for a short rant. "He's chasing me for no reason! It was an accident. I didn't mean to knock him over."

"I know where you're comin' from." His eyes adjusted to the dark, John surveyed the inside of the closet. "This is a pretty nice closet."

Jamie shrugged. "I thought so. The shoes kinda hurt to sit on."

"True, true." John nodded his head and looked around once more. The sat together in silence for thirty seconds, before John felt the need to speak again. "This is a lot more boring than they make it in the movies. If this was a James Bond movie, you'd be a tall, leggy woman, possibly dressed in fruit."

The New Mutant couldn't hide his insult at being cast as the woman. "How come you get to be James Bond? I was here first."

"I've see all the movies _and_ read the books," replied John, matter-of-factly.

Defeated, Jamie hung his head. "Oh. I've only seen the one. I stayed up and hid in the rec room, because Bobby and Ray said I was too young to watch it."

John's jaw dropped. "Hold it. You've only seen _one_ James Bond movie?"

Jamie nodded with confidence, but after a second his head wobbled timidly. "Well, I fell asleep half-way through, and they found me. Then they-"

John's hand clasped the boy's mouth. "Say no more. I have accepted this mission. You shall be cultured in the 007 verse by sunrise. Now the hard part will be finding a telly that hasn't been blown to pieces. . ."

"There's the big computer in the war room-"

"Perfect! Let's go!" John flung open the closet door. At the end of the hallway, Roberto looked up. Jamie shrunk back into the darkest corner of the closet as Roberto flamed on and charged.

John reacted to the advance with a few sauntering steps and wily grin. "Ah, we meet again, Mr. Sanchez. I cannot let your notorious drug plots interfere with my current mission," John said in his best Sean Connery. Roberto paid little attention to the Aussie.

As Sunspot flew by, John clocked him with a cleat that he picked up from the bottom of the closet. Roberto lost altitude, scuttled across the carpet and rolled into the wall. John smiled and swirled an invisible glass in his empty hand. "I didn't even spill my Martini. Let's go, double-o-seven and a half." The two made their escape to the bowels of the Institute.

* * *

In the library, Remy waited for Rogue to finish her practice with Jean. The chair leaned back on two legs; Remy's own were propped up on the table. He wasn't the only one there: Jason was browsing the fiction collection, and, at the table, Bobby was face-planted in the seam of a history textbook. Cards weaved between Remy's fingers, and he amused himself with various card tricks. Eventually, he closed his eyes and shuffled.

A tingling from his chest pocket woke him from his meditative state. His cell phone slipped out of his pocket and into his hand faster than most eyes could catch. The screen read "unknown caller." Five to one, Wisdom was the "Unknown caller." The action was easy: Ignore.

A growling stomach told Remy to search for some edible food. He swung his feet to the floor, but landed hard, shaking the table, instead of his usual cat step. Bobby's head, with paper creases on his cheek, flew up and glared at the Cajun. "Sorry," came from his mouth, but Remy's classic smirk made it insincere.

Soon he was in the kitchen, scrounging in cupboards and banging pots together. Maybe he could fix up something for Rogue before she finished practice. While Remy stirred his new creation, his phone rang three more times before he shut it off. All three were the same unknown number.

The smell of the food was so enticing he forgot about the calls. Unfortunately, the smell had also attracted vultures to the kitchen. Freddy, Todd, and Armel, to be specific.

"I didn't know we could make our own things if we wanted to," Freddy said as he drooled over the steaming pot.

With one swoop, Remy capped his meal and placed himself between it and the predators. "Don't know if you can. I didn' ask." The boys backed off a few steps. Todd and Armel hopped onto a nearby counter while Freddy stayed within reach of the food, ready for Remy to let his guard down.

"They have rules about everything else in this crib," Todd grumbled. "I'm surprised they don't ration the toilet paper."

"Don't worry," Armel piped up. "We won't tattle."

Remy turned back to the stove, but kept an eye on Armel. "Tattle all you want. Dat's not de stuff I worry 'bout." He reached for a wooden spoon to keep it from burning.

"What do you worry about?" Armel asked in a friendly manner.

"None of your business," Remy snapped.

The wooden spoon slapped Fred's lumbering hand. The Blob didn't feel it, but the action had trained him to back off. "People tryin' ta eat my dinner." Fred's face fell and he backed away from the stove. He stood in a nearby corner where her could lean against the wall and not get in the way.

Recognizing his friend in distress, Todd hopped in and out of the pantry with an armful of apples. Todd set two on the counter for himself and Armel and dumped the rest near Fred, who smiled.

After a few minutes apple crunching silence and awkward sideways glances, Armel tried to start up a conversation again. "So, I heard you know the Morlocks."

Remy shrugged. "Oui."

Todd heard of them recently as well. "Man, I heard they all drank this nasty energy drink and grew extra arms." To illustrate his point, he hopped onto the counter and waved his arms around, knocking hanging pots and pans together. Remy glared as he tried to catch the falling items before they knocked over his meal. Sheepishly, Todd slid off the counter and found a stool to perch on.

"They didn't grow extra arms! They glow in the dark," Freddy exclaimed. "And when you sprinkle them with holy water, it makes more of them!"

After replacing the pans, Remy raised an eyebrow. "You should stop listenin' to the New Mutants conspiracy theories."

"But there's a ton more of them now!" Fred cried with a fist to the counter. It was a gentle pound for the Blob, but it disturbed the stove enough that the pilot light went out. Remy sighed and rummaged in the drawers for matches or a lighter. "How did there get to be so many in such a short time?"

"Remember those mutants we rescued in Florida?" Remy asked as he re-lit the burner.

"Yeah," the Brotherhood boys replied.

Taking off the lid, Remy resumed stirring. "Where do you d'ink I took d'em?"

Freddy shrugged. "I don't know."

Remy didn't tell them. In a second or two, Todd's eyes grew wide. "Ohhh. They're Morlocks now too." The light bulb came on for Freddy as well.

While intently examining his apple core, Armel asked, "How many are there now?"

Although he brought up the subject, Armel had been strangely quiet until then. Remy noticed, and alarms went off in his head. He didn't trust this man who worked for Essex. It was too easy for him to escape the doctor, and his actions and interests didn't add up. Unfortunately, Remy's suspicions and hostility showed in his voice. "Why are you so interested in the Morlocks?"

"Geez. I'm only trying to make conversation." Armel jumped off the table and tossed his core into the wastebasket. "Storm was talking about her nephew at dinner. He's one of them, right?"

When Armel moved, Remy's eyes followed, forgetting about his meal despite the strong spices in the air. "Oui. He joined dem."

"Evan's gone?" Toad asked and shook his head. "No wonder Pietro's pissed."

"They were friends?" asked Armel.

"No, bitter enemies. But Pietro was always in a better mood after he beat Evan at something." Todd saw a fly buzzing across the room. His tongue shot out to retrieve his dessert.

Armel watched Todd with a disgusted look on his face. Then shook his head and leaned back on the counter. "I'm surprised Xavier hasn't called him back for this whole End of the World party."

Remy wondered what in their conversation was interesting enough to keep Armel from running into the other room at Todd's diet. The best way to do that was to keep it going and try to give out as little information as possible. "Evan left. He's not a recruiter."

"You don't think they'd be interested in 'saving the world?'" the crystalline mutant asked.

"I t'ink we have enough crazy mutants runnin' around here," Remy answered, keeping his eyes locked on Armel.

"No kidding!" Todd hopped off his stool and onto the counter next to Armel. The other mutant cringed a little, but kept his position. "This morning . . ."

As Todd bounded into his tale, Remy felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The house phone to the mansion rang. It rang again. His stomach dropped; something was wrong. He sprinted to the kitchen phone and saw that someone had picked it up already. He picked up the receiver anyway and cut into the call.

". . . offering free demolitions in the belated spirit of Guy Fawkes Day."

"That is so lame, Bobby. And your English accent is horrible!"

Remy's harsh voice could cut steel. "Amara, hang up de phone." Out of the corner of his eye, Remy noticed that he was the center of attention in the kitchen. He pushed open the nearest door and shut it as much as possible with the phone cord stuck in the frame. Remy sat down on the largest canister of oatmeal he had ever seen. In hopes of minimizing the eavesdropping, he whispered harshly. "I'm not kidding; get off de phone."

After taking orders from Magneto and the rest of the boys on her team in practice, she was not about to do what Remy said. "I'll have you know, I have a very important call-"

"Hang it up," he repeated.

"You have a cell! Why do you need the phone for?"

"Exactly, pet! Why do I 'ave to call Rems-" came the caller's voice.

"I know de perfect gift you can give John. He'll be putty. Hang up and I'll tell you later." He was selling out his friend, but he had done worse things. So had the other man on the line.

Amara squealed with delight and hung up.

Sighing with relief, Remy leaned back on the pantry shelving. His head knocked down a box of instant potato flakes. "Merde," he cried as the snow-like food covered him.

"Rems, language!" Wisdom chided from the other line.

Remy ran a hand through his hair. It looked as if he had the world's worse case of dandruff. He looked out the slit in the pantry door, but didn't see Armel, Todd, or Fred from his angle. Just in case they were evesdropping, Remy kept his voice low and urgent. "Why are you doing dis, homme?"

"For fun. I've got a few 'ours 'til the tide goes out again."

"Don' see you as a surfer."

"I'm more of a surfer observer. You wouldn't believe what surfer girls wear! Or what they aren't wearing after a tumble in the waves." Wisdom chuckled.

It felt like Wisdom wanted to draw this out, so Remy pulled out a deck of cards to calm his nerves. "Why did you call me?"

"Because it's fun. And if you ignore me on your mobile again like tonight, I'll just 'ave to call the land line. Maybe next time I'll ask to speak with your girl. I've got some great stories to tell-"

"Dat's all you got?" Remy's voice rose unconsciously. He looked out into the kitchen again, but no one was in sight. He reverted back to a softer tone, shuffled his cards. "She knows I'm not an angel."

"Ah, but does she know the deal Essex offered you last time you popped in (6)?" Remy ground his teeth, but didn't answer. "I thought not," Wisdom finished.

"So? I didn' take de deal."

"Deal's still on the table, mate."

Remy concentrated on the cards to keep him calm. "No, it isn't."

"It is. I wonder what your little pet would say to that? If you worked your mojo like you usually do, she wants to touch you as much as you want it."

"Stay away from her."

"For you, mate, sure. For now."

The two of clubs flew from the deck and wedged itself under a can of tomato soup. "No, forever," Remy said.

"Can't promise that. She did sign a contract (7)."

"It wasn't legally binding. She's underage."

"You sure?"

A few more cards landed on the floor, so Remy simply held those that remained. "What happened to you, Wisdom? You used to bend over backward to keep a damsel out of distress."

"Life. Answer the phone next time, or you'll regret it." A dial tone met Remy's ear. He sighed, and bent down to pick up his lost cards. He hated playing these games. He thought Essex was a piece of his past after Remy signed with Magneto and his war games. Now he had to put up with both Essex and this Apocalypse deal. The Cajun wished for a break. Maybe a nice tropical vacation with Rogue. He smirked at the idea of Rogue in a bikini, sipping soda under a beach umbrella, maybe some good food – Remy launched himself from the pantry. His dinner!

He needn't worry. When Remy reached the stove, he found the burner off and three dirty bowls and spoons on the counter. To confirm his suspicions, he lifted the lid. His dinner was gone. In response, his stomach grumbled. "Merde," he grumbled and scoured the kitchen for another quick meal.

* * *

(1) See Chapter 11 – Truth or Fiction.

(2) See Chapter 9 – This Does Not Concern You.

(3) See Chapter 11 – Truth or Fiction.

(4) Back in _November Rain,_ Wanda brought John back from the dead. Pietro, being her twin and somehow linked to her energy, witnessed it.

(5) See _November Rain_: Chapter 11 – If Only You Knew. Agatha confronted Magneto and Pietro when Wanda was unconscious in the hospital.

(6) There was a deal hinted at all the way back in _November Rain_: Chapter 27/29. For those who need a refresher: At the end of Chapter 27, Essex told Remy that if Essex unbound Remy's powers (that had the habit of blowing people up), Remy would be one of the few people in the world with the ability to touch Rogue without hidden side-effects. Nothing more was discussed "on-panel," although Remy had a mental discussion with himself about the information in Chapter 29.

(7) Rogue signed a contract in _November Rain_: Chapter 21 committing her to Essex's treatment in exchange for her services and perhaps more in the fine print. Lesson to everyone: read before you sign.

* * *

**Next up**: Witches, Romy, and mischief!


	13. Perpetuate the Mystery

**A/N: It's been a long time. No big surprise really. I haven't made much progress on the next chapter, though. Over on deviantart I've entered an X-Men: Evolution OC Tournament. OC s, gross, I know, but I've been having a great time. That's also what I have been spending my free time on. Not on this story. The Tournament's almost over (I've made it to the semi-finals!), so soon I'll be able to focus on **_**Light **_**again. If you want to check out the Tournament, head to my deviantart page. There's a link on my profile page. **** Hope you enjoy this chapter! There's Jonda! And Romy! And McCoy and Xavier. And cute adorable Jamie.**

**

* * *

Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

_**

* * *

There is a Light that Never Goes Out**_**: Chapter Thirteen – Perpetuate the Mystery**

A bright light erupted from the Danger Room, blinding even those watching from the Control Room. A series of explosions and crashes followed. After the last crash, the standard fluorescent lights flicked on, and the room defaulted to a large, empty grey space. Kurt, Jamie, Todd, Roberto, Amara, and Mastermind lay exhausted on the floor covered in yellow paint.

Magneto, in full regalia, floated downwards. "Again." The others groaned and wished for a few more minutes of rest. Their wishes fell on deaf ears as the Danger Room launched the scenario again. Kurt was on his feet in half a second telling the others of his new crazy plan before the paint started flying.

Up in the control booth, a blue furry instructor rubbed his chin. "Magneto certainly has a different way of training his team."

Xavier looked up from his laptop. "Yes. He likes to throw them into the thick of things without any build-up. They fail over ninety percent of the time, which is disheartening and demoralizing for them, but I can't deny how effective it is, especially for the younger ones."

McCoy flinched when Sunspot flew by the window. "Have you seen that much improvement?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, so far Magneto's team is the most coherent, at least in the Danger Room. It might have just as much to do with their personalities as the training strategy. None of them have much in the way of egos, which allows them to easily put other issues aside to work together.

"Working with new leadership and other mutants have allowed Kurt to experiment more. He's been using his imagination to come up with some very creative ideas to beat the programs. All their repeated failures have only fed Roberto's competitive nature and increased his determination. He's even been talking and encouraging the others to work harder. In team practices with the New Mutants, the others often underestimated and ignored Jamie, but here, he's finding his powers more and more useful to the efforts of the team. I believe it's the same with Todd. Amara is the only one that seems to be struggling." Xavier's eyes returned to his laptop.

McCoy sipped his coffee. "She is the only girl in the group."

"I think it's more that she's not used to taking such harsh orders and receiving harsh criticisms. She is a princess, after all." Xavier could not hold back a grin.

McCoy chuckled freely. "I still think my girl argument holds merit." The blue-furred teacher/medical student turned his back on the chaos below and leaned on the counter. "Typically boys solve conflict in a direct and immediate manner, usually physically, while girls are more passive and manipulative with gossip and rumors, developing a more drawn-out and psychological fight. It would make sense that the boys would respond better to such unyielding frankness."

Xavier nodded, but kept his eyes glued to his computer screen. "Interesting theory, Hank. I wonder if that's why Erik's teams have always been heavy on the testosterone. The only disagreement I see is that Logan has thrown a few impossible puzzles at his team, again only one girl, yet they have failed miserably each time. Their team is no more cooperative than it was at the first practice. They are always at each other's throats. Logan spends most of the time breaking up fights, some even involving Kitty. It doesn't help that Pietro has been showing up late and more irritable than usual."

The blue instructor sighed and set down his empty mug. "I must admit that my team isn't at the level I thought it would be by now either. All of them are fairly comfortable with their own powers, but all of them except Fred have their own ideas of what to do with them. I give them one task, they have five or more different ideas of how to solve it, and then they can't agree on what to do. It usually results in each of the ideas being executed at once. Often the task is completed, but as an individual, not a team."

Xavier typed something onto his computer. "There must be a way to improve their teamwork skills."

Another explosion rattled the framework, but this time its source was another part of the mansion. "Even if we could form teams in there," McCoy thumbed toward the Danger Room behind him, "once they stepped outside, all that conflict returns. I fear your home may not survive these upcoming weeks."

"Upcoming weeks?" Xavier paused and glanced between McCoy and the computer in his lap. "I'm not sure we have weeks."

McCoy's ears perked up. "Have you found something?" He stepped toward Xavier to get a look at the laptop screen.

"No. Nothing. I don't have any idea of what is to come. That truly frightens me. Sometimes I dream that the Apocalypse will come so soon and fast that all this preparation will be for naught. The pivotal moment will come, and we will be here, without any clue."

Always the optimist, McCoy suggested, "Perhaps a new approach-"

The top of the laptop clicked roughly on the bottom. Xavier snapped up to look at McCoy. "Do you have a new suggestion?" Xavier snarled, then sighed and recomposed himself. The dark circles under his eyes showed his endless nights looking for answers, only to have every lead fall short. His eyes themselves began to reveal defeat. For McCoy, Xavier counted his leads on his fingers. "I've tried looking at all Apocalypse and Revelation works, researching Tibetan art and jewelry, all kinds of spiders, even the circus Mesmero traveled with. Nothing. I've searched for Mesmero for hours every day on Cerebro. He continues to hide himself. The only avenue I have any hope for is the witches. They said they won't be able to get any answers to me until the full moon next Tuesday."

Again, McCoy's interest was peaked. "Does the full moon augment their powers? Or maybe link them psychically to each other? I know many believe a woman's twenty-eight-day cycle is related to the cycle of the moon. That is why many cultures have Goddesses, not Gods, that are linked to the moon."

"When I asked, they _said_ as much," Xavier saw McCoy's eyes light up but had to continued, "but the woman had to take the call off speaker phone to answer because her sister was laughing so loud in the background."

"It could have been an unrelated matter. . ." McCoy trailed off when Xavier began to shake his head.

The Professor slid the laptop on the Control Room counsel and wheeled next to McCoy. He laid a hand on the hairy man's arm. "I feel it is only a myth to perpetuate the mystery of witches."

McCoy's head fell dejectedly. "Oh. Disappointing." Then he lifted his head and smiled his toothy beastly grin. "Yet, fascinating all the same. It's not all that dissimilar to many of the cliques I observed in my years teaching high school. The outgoing image was just as important as what brought the individuals together, even if they were false or contradictory. . ."

As McCoy related his observations on the subject, Xavier's eyes passed from his colleague back to his sleeping laptop. The Professor relaxed in his chair and focused on his animate friend until the instructor had to leave to run his own team's Danger Room session. Xavier could take a short break from running down dead end alleys hoping to find something of substance on Apocalypse. His torch of hope was dwindling.

* * *

When the door to the Winding Way opened, a black cat leapt down from some hidden perch and bounded off Lance's head into Wanda's arms. The cat purred and cuddled. Wanda raised an eyebrow. "What have they been doing to you here, Ebony?" As she stroked Ebony's fur, he purred like a jet engine.

After catching Bobby and Ray torturing the cat "for the sake of science," Wanda had brought Agatha's familiar to the Winding Way for safety. That was after she taught both boys a smelly lesson about home plumbing, of course.

Lance sneezed. Ebony also bothered Lance's allergies. That wouldn't have been such a problem if Wanda could stand to be in her assigned room with Jean. Since blowing up the Rec Room, Wanda had kicked Lance out of his bed, making the boy sleep on the floor. Pietro objected the first few nights, but since their fight two days ago, Pietro hadn't been sleeping at the mansion. Or spending anymore time there than he had to. Wanda wanted to ask where he was going, but that could be misconstrued as caring for him, which he would rub in her face instead of answering her question anyway.

Lorelei greeted Lance and Wanda in her customary way. "Surprised you returned. Sure you don't need directions?"

Lance grinned politely. The witches still gave him the creeps, and Leena, aka Amora's, attitude pissed him off. Lorelei he was starting to get. "Didn't know you could escape from hell."

Lorelei's face remained stoic. "You can't, but there are nine circles of fun to navigate around in. The party's in Limbo with the pagans, but you look like you'd enjoy the fifth circle.(1)"

There was silence as an inner debate in Lance's head about whether to ask the question. Turns out Wanda was more curious. "What's the fifth circle?"

"Sullenness."

Wanda let out an amused snort. Ebony dug his nails into her arm when she shook. "Sounds about right. Ouch! What have you been doing to the cat?" Wanda asked as she calmed Ebony down.

"Only neglect. We only pulled him out of the box today, because we knew you were coming." Wanda glared at Lorelei. "Just kidding. We can't take him back to the apartment, because he tries to eat Leena's birds, so he's alone here all night."

At the sound of her God-given name, Lorelei's platinum blonde sister burst from the backroom. "Wanda!" Leena squealed. Wanda cringed, almost dropping the cat. "Perfect timing! We got in some fresh avalanche lily. Usually it doesn't come until the spring. Turns out global warming isn't all bad."

"Uh, huh. Lily. Great," Wanda replied unenthusiastically. The mutant witch continued to dote on the cat, not moving toward Leena and the backroom. Lance took her coat and his and threw them behind the register. The door opened again, and Margali entered, stomping the slush off of her boots. Ebony leapt from Wanda's arms and wound around Margali's legs in welcome.

"Traitor," Wanda told the cat, who looked up innocently.

"Margali, guess what?" Leena only waited a half second for a reply. "We got avalanche lily today."

The other witch raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"What do you mean, 'So?'" The witch of love popped her hip and animated her lecture with her hands. "The most successful love spell I've developed works best with fresh avalanche lily. Now we can get the _right_ boy on Wanda's arm and take giant leaps in her witchcrafting."

"Hey!" Lance started to defend himself, but was overcome by another sneeze.

"Leave her alone, Amora," Margali scolded. "We're supposed helping her with developing her skills until we find Agatha, not playing matchmaker."

"If she wasn't so confused emotionally, then it would be easier to develop her skills," Leena said.

Wanda finally cornered Ebony so she could pick her up. "I'm right here," she growled, lifting the cat into her arms. "And I don't need a boyfriend to be a witch."

Leena glided over and put a hand on Wanda's shoulder. The witch shrugged it off, but the blonde continued with her argument anyway. "Wanda, it's not that you need a boyfriend. It's that you are trying to fill this hole inside you with this. . . _brick_ here," she pointed to Lance, "and he's not adequate."

"What did you call me?" Lance exclaimed. His shoulder's rose and face reddened.

Despite Lance's display, Leena had no fear in her voice when she turned to address him. "You are a brick trying to fit in a round hole. All wrong."

"I'm not filling anything with Lance!" exclaimed Wanda.

Looking over her shoulder, Leena winked at Wanda. "Exactly my point, doll."

"Amora! Knock it off," Margali said. "We already talked about this. Her life's crazy enough as it is. We don't need to add magic-coerced love into it."

"'Magic-coerced love?'" Leena snickered and marched to Margali. She looked up into the woman's eyes. "Is that what you think of my talents?" The blonde took a step back and relaxed her pose. "Besides, the boy will calm her down."

Lance snorted. "You've never met the guy then."

Wanda glared at each and every one of them. Slowly and deliberately, Wanda coated her words with venom. "I am standing right here." She paused, then cocked her head. "But I don't know why." She turned to leave the store, with Ebony but without her jacket. With her hand inches from the door handle, Lance blocked her exit.

"Out of my way." The witch's hands glowed. Strings of lights that hung over the door and windows tied themselves around Lance, but he refused to move.

"No." His forceful "no," lost some of its power when he began a sneezing fit. The lights, only limply hanging around his body before, tightened. Despite the lights and allergies, Lance remained in front of the door. "You should stay."

Wanda dropped the cat and crossed her arms. "Give me one reason."

Lance leaned his head forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. "You need them."

Wanda's eyes narrowed. "I don't _need_ anyone."

"Fine! Then go on!" Lance shuffled aside, a complicated feat to do without falling considering the lights wrapped around him. "Go back to school. Send more people to the hospital. Go back to the Institute and tell your daddy that he was right, and you were wrong.(2)"

That last line stung. Two days ago she was defending these lovesick women, and now she was turning her back on them. Her father was wrong, but leaving in a tantrum like she was would support his argument and his image of her as a flighty, confused girl attaching herself to a fad. That thought made Wanda seethe. She spun on her heel and charged to the back room. "Teach me. But if I hear the word 'love' again, the store is getting redecorated."

"Hey!" Lorelei jumped in front of the teenager. "The store did nothing. I did nothing. If you _touch_ the store to get back at these two, you're bringing a world of trouble on yourself." With coldness in the shop owner's eyes, Wanda could not mistake the seriousness. Wanda had never been at the receiving end of Lorelei's threats-not her serious ones anyway. It was almost as frightening as her father could be. Wanda had never been intimidated by a mere human like this. Of course, this human came from a long line of witches.

Wanda leaned back and swallowed her fear. "Okay. Inside out birdies it is."

"What?" Leena screamed.

* * *

"Ah never imagined a day when fast food would taste so good." Rogue took a giant bite out of her quarter pounder with cheese. A glob of mustard squirted onto her cheek. "Remy," she said, her mouth still half-full with burger, "this is possibly the best idea ya've ever had." After swallowing, Rogue picked up a napkin and wiped her hands, but missed the mustard spot on her cheek.

Across the booth, Remy, elbows on the table, chin resting on his hands, watched Rogue more than eating his food. Although the two now lived under the same roof and even shared the same room, they barely had any time alone together. Remy wouldn't get up until the all the schoolers had left, and he worked with Logan and the other boys on fixing up the mansion until everyone else returned from school. Rogue would vent about school until they had Danger Room practice together, then dinner, and after Rogue would have practice with Jean or homework until she passed out in the library. Remy almost missed the days of sneaking onto Rogue's balcony for some banter. "Anything for my chere. I wish you woulda picked someplace a little more private." A french fry smacked the back of Remy's head. "And less sticky."

Resisting the urge to laugh outright, Rogue smiled and shrugged. "Mah stomach didn' want ta wait ta find somethin' better. Plus, this place has great entertainment."

Another fry came flying, but this time stuck to the back of Remy's head. He sneered, ripped the greasy potato slice out of his hair and glared at the kid in the neighboring booth. Unaffected by his menacing glower, the child giggled and tossed another fry, this time hitting Remy's dark sunglasses. A chunk of ketchup smeared across the lenses. Pulling out the big guns, Remy slowly removed his glasses, revealing his red on black eyes. His unusual eyes were overkill, however. The child screamed bloody murder and pounded his fists on the table, knocking over salt, pepper, food and just about everything else.

"Now ya've made it worse," Rogue scolded between bites. "At least when he was tossin' fries at ya he was happy."

Remy grabbed the stack of napkins and wiped the tomato goo off his glasses. "I was under attack."

Rogue raised an eyebrow. "By a two-year-old." She popped a fry in her mouth.

"He's gotta learn not to t'row stuff at strangers. One day it'll be Toothy sitting here, and de kid'll lose a head."

His date shook her head. "Wow, Remy. Ya're in the wrong business. Ya should be doin' after-school specials."

"I could do an entire series on how not to get your head ripped off or blown up," he said, bitterness still dripping from his words. "_Sesame Street_ won't know what hit it."

Rogue nodded and concentrated on finishing her value meal; Remy did the same. The food at the Institute was becoming more inedible by the hour. It was always late, usually because a dish was thrown at another member of the cooking team. Also, what came out was usually variable degrees of burnt, frozen, or undercooked. The greatest cracker jack prize discovered in a meal was the spring from a ball point pen. No one had found the rest of the pen. Most of the students learned to stuff themselves with school lunch before returning to the mansion. It was a sad day when the school cafeteria contained the best food of your day. When Remy suggested he and Rogue take a ride to find some real food, Rogue jumped at the chance and on the back of his bike.

When he finished, Remy noticed that spot of mustard still standing out on Rogue's pale cheek. Without a word, he picked up a napkin and made a move to wipe it off.

Rogue noticed the approaching hand and dropped the last bite of her burger. Her entire body tensed. Eyes bulged at his hand, six inches from her face. "What are ya doing?"

Remy sighed, his hand dropped a few inches. He had hoped she was more comfortable with him. "You gotta spot." He waved the thin tissue.

"Oh." Rogue blushed and relaxed a smidgen. "Ah can get it." She scanned the table for another clean napkin but there wasn't one. She reached for the napkin Remy was holding, but he refused to let go. "Uh, can Ah have the napkin?"

Remy shook his head and smiled. "You'll have to trade me for it."

She pointed to her plate. "Ya want more fries?"

Again, Remy shook his head.

She took one more look at her ravaged tray. "Ah don't really have anything else left."

"I could always use a kiss." A lopsided grin grew on his face.

Rogue's face grew cold, and she pushed back from the table. "Don't."

Remy refused to wipe the smile off his face. "Don' what?"

Rogue glared at the smirking Cajun for a solid minute. Finally she said, "Ya know how sayin' that stuff makes meh feel, and ya do it anyway." Rogue stood up and took a step toward the door.

Remy's hand shot out and grabbed her covered arm. She stopped but didn't turn, so Remy had to maneuver himself to stand in front of her. He used the napkin as a barrier to tilt her chin up to him. She flinched, then relaxed when she realized the napkin was there. Grudgingly, she looked him in the eye. "What charm are ya gonna try and pull now?"

"Nothin'. I'm just sad you're scared when I try and touch you."

Rogue's eyes narrowed, and she pushed him back a few steps. "Kissin' ain't just touchin', and ya know why Ah freak out."

"Oui, but you been freaking out anytime I try and touch you."

Rogue shook her head. "Not anytime. We touch all the time."

"You are fine when you're doin' the touching, but when I try and wipe food off your face, ya look like I pulled a gun on you."

She crossed her arms. "Ah did not."

"You did. You tensed, paled, your eyes 'bout popped out of t'eir sockets. When you don' do dat, you flinch. You say you don' like it when I ask to kiss you 'cause you don' like de way it makes you feel. Well, I don' like de way it feels when you flinch."

"Ah don't flinch," she said through clenched teeth.

"Den hold still." Remy's hand approached her face, and, as predicted, Rogue flinched. "See."

Although Remy had proved his point, Rogue wasn't going to admit it. "Ya were comin' at meh too fast. Ah thought a baseball was flyin' at mah face."

"Baseball season's been over for mont's."

"Try again." This time Rogue held her chin high and breathed regularly as the napkin smeared the yellow sauce across her face. Rogue watched Remy's face crease in concentration and felt more pressure on her cheek. Remy pulled the napkin away from her face, licked it, then attempted to press it back against Rogue's cheek. Rogue pulled evasive maneuvers. "What are ya doin'?"

"Tryin' to get de mustard off your face." He placed his hand on her shoulder to steady her. "You're flinching again."

"Ah'm not gonna have ya spit clean mah face. Ah'm not two years old."

Remy chuckled. "De mess on your face says ot'erwise."

Rogue let out an aggravated cry, wrenched the napkin from Remy's hand, and stomped off to the bathroom. "How did ya do this?" Rogue exclaimed from the bathroom.

In a few minutes, Rogue emerged. She passed Remy and tossed a wet paper towel in his face. "That's the last time Ah let ya try and clean mah face." Rogue continued walking to the table and sat down to finish the last of her food.

A few steps behind, Remy joined her with a new stack of napkins. Remy smirked; Rogue glared, then finished her food. As she wiped the last bit of grease from her fingers, Rogue broke the silence. "Ah suppose Ah have been a little tense 'bout touchin' lately. Ah don't mean ta be. 'Though by the look o' mah face, Ah wasn't entirely unjustified."

Remy shrugged. "It hasn' happened in a long time, but I noticed de last couple days. Mostly since your powers went crazy."

She threw the last bits of trash onto her tray and glared at Remy from the corner of her eye. "Ah still don't like it when ya make jokes about kissin'."

"I know," Remy nodded solemnly, then broke out into a smile, "but you're tres belle when you're angry."

Rogue kicked him under the table. "Your bruise'll be tres belle, too." She leaned back in the booth and relished her full tummy. She glanced out the window at the cold, cloudy evening and reflected back on her flinching. "Ah guess with everything that's happened with Essex and mah powers and ya'll movin' in and fightin' with Kitty, Ah've been a little tense."

"Everyone has been. Today was de first day Piotr didn' try and punch me."

Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Ya two on the mend?"

Remy snorted. "No, I avoided him all day." Remy picked up his straw wrapper and tied it in a knot. "It wasn' dat hard. Wolvie split up de Extreme Home Makeover team to finish the dorm wing and repair de second floor bathroom."

"Who blew up the bathroom this time?"

Remy shrugged. "Coulda been anyone." Looking up at the stained ceiling, Remy couldn't help but smile. "But we're not dere. No explosions or crossing battle fronts here."

"What do ya think 'bout this surprise team-building thing Xavier wants us ta do on Saturday night?"

"Don' know, but it better not be some 'trust fall' t'ing."

"Ah was worried 'bout a drum circle or somethin'."

"One t'ing's for sure: Better t'an Danger Room practices all weekend. You and Jean still workin'?"

"Just tomorrow, and we're focusin' on her powers for once." Rogue looked forward to some payback for all the insulting things Jean said about her mindscape (4).

"Good, let's go out Saturday afternoon, 'fore de mystery team-building party."

"As long as real food is a part o' the plan, Ah'm there." Rogue looked at their empty trays. "Suppose we should be gettin' back." She stood up and grabbed her coat.

Remy snatched it away in order to help her put it on. Rogue rolled her eyes but let him do it. She concentrated and didn't flinch, not even when her sleeve got caught. "Oui, but let's take our sweet time. How 'bout a walk?"

The Southern Goth looked at him as if he was crazy. "It's freezin' outside. Literally. Snow." She pointed at the first flakes falling and sticking to the grass.

"But notice de lack of other people."

Rogue sighed. "Ya and your 'seclusion.' Don't know what ya're hopin' will happen. All Ah can think of is frostbite."

There was a park two blocks away, so the couple headed in that direction, keeping the conversation light. They sat on the bench in the park, huddled together, Rogue's head on Remy's chest, watching the snow fall. "It might be cold and wet, but at least it's pretty," she said softly.

Remy nodded in agreement. "And de lack of interruptions and explosions ain' so bad neither." Remy rubbed his hand up and down Rogue's upper arm to warm her up. They sat together, enjoying the alone time and listening to each other's breaths and heartbeats.

A vibration underneath Rogue's head inside Remy's coat pocket broke their comfortable silence. Remy reached for his phone, but Rogue's hand stopped him. "Don't. Mah time. Like ya said, 'No interruptions.'"

Defeated, Remy dropped his arm and fidgeted underneath the Goth. His leg jumped repeatedly, his fingers tapped, his heartbeat quickened. The phone stopped vibrating. The Cajun's restless behavior stopped. So did his breathing. After he didn't exhale for twenty seconds, Rogue sat forward and turned to look at his face. "What's wrong with ya?"

Remy licked his lips. "Nothing." A moment passed and Rogue sensed that Remy was still tense. She stared him down until he added, "But if de phone rings again, I've gotta answer it."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do ya mean, 'ya gotta?'"

As if on cue, his phone vibrated again. Remy locked eyes with a disgruntled Rogue. "I've got to." The phone was only an inch out of his pocket when Rogue snatched it from his hand. The screen said, "Wisdom, Miserable Minion."

Too much in shock, Rogue didn't fight Remy when he slipped the phone back into his own hand. Her paled face focused on her feet instead of the man sitting next to her. Her voice cracked. "Why is Wisdom calling ya?"

Remy lifted the phone to his ear. "I don' know," he snapped. "He's an asshole and likes bugging me."

Distrust filled her. She hated feeling that way about Remy, but he was always the one with the secrets. Dangerous secrets. Rogue tilted her head up. "Put it on speaker."

"What-"

"Put it on speaker!" Rogue repeated.

Remy did as she asked, but held onto the phone.

"'ello, friend! Mon ami. 'ow's it going today?"

Remy ground his teeth. "Same ole. Assholes keep botherin' me when I have better t'ings to do."

"Really? That's just the pits."

"You got somethin' to say to me, Wisdom?"

"Just wanted to hear the sound of your voice, mate. You tell your pet about the contract yet? Thought we could iron out some details over the line (5)."

Rogue's eyes widened and she watched Remy's response. His expression was dark and irritated. "Told you t'ere wasn' gonna be a contract."

"You sure? No second thoughts? Lingering . . itches?" Wisdom snickered.

Remy's eyes began to glow with hatred. He spoke through clenched teeth. "Non. Not a one. Essex should stop wastin' your time."

"Your mouth keeps saying no, but I don' think the rest of you agrees."

Remy replied crisply, "Every inch."

Wisdom laughed. "A whole inch? No wonder you slept with a girl only once."

Remy seethed and ran a hand through his hair, practically pulling out a chunk. "Anything else to bother Remy wit'?"

"You really should tell your pet 'bout the contract. It concerns her too."

"Remy'll take it under consideration. Bye, Fool."

The flip phone was only thirty degrees from snapping shut when Wisdom shouted, "Wait! One more thing." Reluctantly, Remy reopened the phone. He could practically hear the Brit lick his lips and smile. "You should also tell your pet to button that top button on her jacket. It gives off a great view, but it's cold out. 'er health's at stake. Bye-bye, Rem-Rem."

Remy and Rogue both shot off the bench. "He's here." Remy scanned the trees and nearby rooftops, but saw nothing but falling whiteness against the dark sky.

"That perv!" Rogue gathered her jacket up to her neck but didn't button it. She reached inside her head and called upon Lt. Nightcrawler of the _U.S.S. Rogue_. Bamf! She was gone.

Remy jumped at the noise and the disappearance of his girlfriend. "Rogue!" He heard more bamfs across the park before she returned gasping for breath.

Remy helped her up from her knees onto the park bench they were snuggling on peacefully only moments before. He rubbed her back and wished he had a bottle of water tucked away in a pocket.

Eventually, Rogue was able to speak. "That takes a lot outta ya. No wonder Kurt -" Bamf! Rogue disappeared from his side again.

Not a second later, Remy heard Rogue cry out. He followed the subsequent curses to a blue spruce tree. He looked up and called, "You need some help, chere?"

About twenty feet off the ground, Rogue was stretched face down between the sharp branches of the tree. She struggled to pull her arms free from branches. After a few unsuccessful seconds, she stopped fidgeting and shook the hair from her face. Glaring, she called to Remy below. Each word was annunciated clearly with underlying hostility. "Ya fussed all night 'bout helpin' meh do things Ah learned ta do when Ah was knee high, but when Ah'm tangled up in a Christmas tree, _ya ask_?"

Remy chuckled and grabbed a low branch. "Why'd you teleport up here? Did you see him?"

The Goth shook her head. "Ah didn't mean to. Ah'm still workin' on callin' up powers."

"And putting t'em away," poked Remy.

The Rogue smiled with an evil glint in her eye. "Ya want that kiss now, swamp rat? Ah'm in a givin' mood."

"Must be de Christmas tree." When Remy reached Rogue, he kissed her forehead through her soaked hair, then started untangling her. "If Widsom's still watching, I bet he's rolling in the snow laughing."

"Good. Maybe he'll get pneumonia." The two didn't say another word while they were untangling Rogue, but a thick tension hung in the air.

When their feet were on the ground, Rogue didn't let go of Remy's hands. "What was all that contract stuff he was talkin' 'bout?"

Remy wanted to drop her hands and run the other way, but Rogue's grip was tight. He sighed and looked deep into her jade eyes. "It's not important 'cause I'll never deal wit' Essex again."

Their eye lock continued, but Remy didn't say anything more. Rogue prodded, "He said it concerned meh. . ."

Now Remy looked everywhere but her face. There had to be a way out of saying it. He wished it didn't matter. He didn't want her to resent him. She was willing to try to change her DNA to touch, but he wasn't willing to do the same for her. She admitted that it was a bad decision but that didn't make her want it less. He wanted to keep this one thing to himself, but he was trapped. Damn enculé. The Brit knew Rogue was listening the entire time.

After a deep breath, Remy was finally able to meet Rogue's eyes. He gave her hands a squeeze and exhaled. "Remember when I came to save you at Essex's lab?" Rogue nodded. "Well, 'fore you came in and beat de merde outta Essex, I made him tell me what he had done to you. Most of it I didn' get. What I did get was dat your powers can't be fixed t'rough his treatments. He said dey were either a physical mutation dat you can't shut off or you have some sort of mental block on dem (5)."

Rogue gave Remy a cold, hard stare. She spoke through clenched and chattering teeth. "When were ya gonna tell meh this?"

He let go of one of her hands and held it up like a stop sign. "I'm not finished yet. You wanna hear de offer or yell at me?" Although her eyes erupted with coldness, Rogue bit her lip and nodded. Remy continued, "He said he couldn' fix you, but he could fix me. He said de part of my DNA dat he bound, dat got me into dis whole mess to begin wit'… he said dat if he unbound it, I'd be able to touch you 'wit'out any side-effects.' Whatever de hell dat means."

Rogue looked down at her gloves, then back up into Remy's eyes. They stood in silence for several minutes. Remy could see the questions and emotions running through Rogue's face. It was like watching the different fruit roll by on a slot machine. What emotion would hit the jackpot?

"What did he want – No, doesn't matter." She smiled and tugged Remy down the street toward his bike. "Ah'm glad ya spit in Essex's face. Ah bet he thought he had ya with that one." She looked down at her footprints in the snow. "Ya're stronger than Ah am," she added quietly.

Pulling on the hand he still held, Remy spun Rogue around to face him. When her eyes avoided his own, he tilted her chin up with his other hand. "It's not dat I don' want it -"

Rogue stopped him with a hand to his mouth. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, with her glove between their lips. "We'll make do."

With a fluttering heart, Remy regretted taking a step back to give himself breathing room. He wanted to take her up in his arms and swing her around and then some other dirty things out there in the middle of the street. He settled for the former, then finished their walk to the bike, hands swinging together between them.

As he handed her a helmet, Remy straightened up with an epiphany. "If anyt'ing, dis proves dat we were made for each other, no? My mutant DNA woulda let me get past your mutant DNA. . ."

Rogue playfully slapped the back of his head. "Whatever, swamp rat. Ah'm cold. Let's get outta here."

* * *

There she was, sitting on his bed, like she had all week. She was in her pajamas, a pair of biking shorts and a tank top, fixing her chipping blood red nail polish. The smell was a little strong in the small room Lance supposedly shared with Pietro. It was too cold outside to open the window, so he put up with the smell. Pietro wouldn't, but Pietro wasn't there, hadn't slept there since Wanda fought with him. Wanda didn't seem to notice except to suggest that Lance sleep in Pietro's bed instead of on the floor. Lance elected not to. Pietro's sheets smelled weird.

Lance took a deep breath. This was it. He had to tell her. After what happened in the witch store today, he had to get it off his chest. He couldn't go through another day like that.

"Wanda," he said and waited.

"Yeah," she answered, not looking up from her hands.

"Um, I need to tell you something." Lance paused, waiting for her to put down her polish and pay attention to him. When she didn't, he felt anger rise up inside of him. Pushing it down, he added through clenched teeth, "Something important."

Wanda nodded and dabbed some more polish on her brush. "Uh, huh. I'm listening."

His anger began to simmer. "Can you at least look at me?" he exclaimed.

Wanda sighed, rolled her head, and recapped her polish. "Looking." After examining the young mutant on the floor in his stained white T-shirt, messed up hair, and guitar case at his side, she knitted her eyebrows. "You don't look so good. I told you that applesauce-looking stuff was a bad idea."

"It was gravy."

"Seriously?" Figuring he was done with his 'important news,' Wanda hauled her foot to the bed to begin her pedicure.

Lance slammed his fist on the wood floor. "Can you just stop while I'm talking to you?"

Tilting her chin so she could see his face, she raised an eyebrow. "What's up your pants?"

"You and your witchy friends. I'm not going back there, so find yourself another patsy." He snapped open the clasps on his guitar case and yanked out the instrument. Playing would calm him down.

Wanda didn't understand where Lance's attitude was coming from. "Patsy?"

"Someone to put up with all that love crap the blonde lady throws around." Lance laid the guitar across his lap and began tuning. "I'm not a brick," he said with conviction.

The Witch capped her nail polish and put both her feet on the floor. "I never said you were."

Lance tilted his head and caught Wanda's eye for a second. "But you think it." In a flash his attention was back on his guitar. "They all do. And I don't want to be a brick. Not anymore."

The confusion grew on Wanda's face. "Is this conversation supposed to be making sense?"

Lance's eyes remained focused on his guitar. He plucked the first two strings, then tightened the A. "Look, everyone thinks you should get back together with John, even people who've never met him. Why don't you?" He tried the strings again. Satisfied he moved onto the D. "Why aren't you two out running people's underwear up flagpoles or something?"

Eye daggers flew from Wanda to the back of Lance's head. "Don't tell me what to do!" she hissed. Lance reached into his case to pull out a guitar pick, but Wanda hexed it shut on his fingers. "I do what I want. You're as bad as my brother."

Kissing his damaged hand, Lance glared at the girl on his bed. "You did not just say that."

Wanda jutted her chin out proudly. "I did. Now keep your nose out of where it doesn't belong." She snapped her head down, her leg up, and restarted her pedicure.

From the floor, Lance watched her for a few minutes while massaging his hurt knuckles. Then he looked back down at his guitar and finished tuning. The routine cleared his mind and helped him pick his next words carefully. After a playing a few chords, Lance faced the Witch again. "Are we friends?" Wanda lifted her eyes from her own work. Lance continued, "Because friends should be able to tell friends when they're being stupid assholes."

Her eyes dropped to her foot and one corner of her mouth turned up. "Yes, you are an asshole, Lance."

He played another chord. "No, I'm being a friend." One more chord to work up more courage and brace himself for another hex. "You're being an asshole." Lance was surprised when the hex never came.

Instead, Wanda stopped applying polish and cocked her head. "How are you being my friend?"

"I'm telling it to you straight. Everyone knows you're miserable without John, and he's turned into some crazy-punk-emo-jerkface without you, so what's holding you back?"

Wanda's attention turned back to her feet. "None of your business."

Lance shook his head. "Man, I don't even know why you broke up in the first place. There was, like, thirty seconds between you forgiving him for almost one-night-standing you, and you throwing him out with the trash and not looking back. What happened in the bushes? You find out he gave you an STD (6)?"

The color rose in Wanda's face as she remembered that day. She forcefully plunged the nail brush in and out of the bottle, then spoke through clenched teeth. "He told me what he really thought of our relationship."

"Which was?" Lance pushed.

"That it wasn't important enough to tell anyone," Wanda growled, bitterness still raging.

Lance stopped strumming and furrowed his brow. "But we already knew."

"He wanted us to fake a break-up, so we could secretly date," Wanda spat out and flopped down into a slouch on Lance's bed. She crossed her arms and stared out the window. Her breathing sped up; her face reddened a few shades.

Still confused, Lance asked, "Why would the loony want that?"

"Because of his ex!" she exploded. "He didn't want it to get back to her." Wanda deepened her slouch and face-palmed. "I'm such an idiot. An idiot to think he'd ever move on. He planned to drop me the minute she woke up and remembered him."

Lance didn't think he could become more confused. "Huh?"

Hurt, jealously, and sadness beamed from Wanda's eyes. "He's still in love with Amnesia Girl!"

Lance wondered if he lived in a world different from Wanda's. "Who?"

The Witch continued to stare out the window. "His ex-girlfriend. The one who doesn't remember dating him."

Lance finally put the pieces together from Wanda's perspective: Someone had told her that St. John had an ex-girlfriend, but conveniently left out the part about it being her. Now Wanda felt she was competing with her pre-brainwashed self for John.

Lance relaxed his neck and banged his head on the wall behind him. "Good grief," he mumbled, too soft for Wanda to hear. He twisted his head to look at the gorgeous, suffering girl on his bed. For a second he considered playing into Wanda's insecurities and maybe getting the girl after all. Unfortunately for his love life, his conscience got the better of him. It was bad enough playing into the fantasy Magneto put into her head. He didn't want to screw her up any more than he already had. There were enough other people doing that.

Wanda took Lance's silence as further confusion, so she broke her logic down further. "Why else would he want it to be a secret unless he wanted to make a clean, easy break later?"

Lance coughed. This was his crossroad. It was now or never. Help her work out the confused jumble of lies and half-truths in her head or give her more lies and possibly get the girl. He chose the former. "Dating the boss's daughter never makes for a clean, easy break," Lance managed. He wanted to punch himself for defending the Aussie.

"That's another thing." Wanda continued to look at her reflection in the window. "He was especially freaked about Father finding out. He said I could tell all the X-Men if I wanted as long as it didn't get back to Father. Coward. Like my father would do anything to him if he knew I cared about him."

"Uh...you are talking about your father, right? Magneto? Wears a bucket on his head?"

Wanda glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "Like you should talk, Punchbowl."

Of the many reasons that could have been behind Wanda and St. John's break-up, Lance never thought this was it. "Seriously? You dumped him because he didn't want your dad to find out?"

"No!" Wanda snapped her head to face the boy on the floor. "I broke up with him because he didn't want anyone to know so he didn't have consequences when he dumped me to go back with Amnesia Girl."

Lance dropped his head forward. "You are an idiot."

Wanda's eyes narrowed. "What?"

His head bounded up and he groaned to the ceiling. "Only an idiot would come up with something so stupid."

"It's true," she exclaimed.

"No, it's not." Lance began to feel sympathy for the pyromaniac. Maybe it was a good thing Lance decided not to go for the girl. She was a little crazy. "The only person John didn't want to find out was Magneto or anyone who would tell Magneto."

"So he's only a coward."

"I know you love your dad and all, but keep in mind not everyone does."

"Underneath the costume, he's a dad like any other."

"Except with the costume he has access to strange and unusual punishment."

"Like the wild chair rides?" Wanda snorted. "That's not so scary."

"No, like . . . worse." Lance could feel Wanda's eyes on him, trying to see the truth he almost let slip. He was glad he didn't try lying to her more. "Just trust me on this. Your father would never accept John as your boyfriend. This guy you're imagining that your father is is _not_ Magneto. Maybe he does exist deep down under his purple cape, but he doesn't come out too often. He'd treat the situation like he does any other obstacle in his way: He'd annihilate it."

Wanda's brow creased. "That doesn't make sense."

Lance picked up his guitar again, and tried fingering another chord. "Trust me. It's the truth."

"Why should I?"

The city boy let out an aggravated sigh. "Because you've been an ass. And I'm your friend." He strummed the guitar more forcefully. The chords were the only sounds between them for a few minutes.

The witch pulled both legs to her chest and laid her chin on her knees. She watched Lance's hands beat the music from the guitar. When his strums grew more gentle, Wanda ventured to speak again. "You really think I should give it another shot with John?"

Lance almost bit his tongue when he spoke. "It'll make you happy, won't it?" He chose a minor chord next.

Lance's words rolled around in her head. She nuzzled her chin further into her legs. Her sorrow-filled eyes moved from her guitar playing friend to the dark window. White dots drifted past the glass. When she formed an answer her face was pale and intently staring at the snow. "Not if he leaves me," she whispered. Her lip trembled slightly.

Another minor chord. "I can't say he won't. That's the chance you have to take sometimes." Lance pulled a flimsy booklet from his guitar case and flipped to a song. Wanda listened to it for a while, but soon grew antsy.

Eventually she stood up, put on a hoodie, and threw on a pair of Lance's sweatpants. "I need to take a walk."

Lance stood up and walked her to the door. He opened it for her. "Good idea."

She walked past him and turned to say goodbye. "See you later tonight."

"Later," he replied and gently closed the door.

Leaving Lance's room, Wanda glanced down the hallway. There sat two boys, one totally immersed in some construction involving rope, a bag of feathers, saran wrap and honey. The other was staring up at the witch, slack-jawed.

She hadn't expected to see him so soon. She was going to wander around the mansion, maybe bother Rogue, then, if she felt like it, hunt down the Aussie. He wasn't supposed to be outside Lance's door. She had no idea what she wanted to say. She settled on "Hi."

Jamie looked up, and a grin spread across his face. "Hi, Wanda!" Then he ducked his head and covered his mouth. "We're setting up a trap for Bobby and Roberto," Jamie whispered excitedly. "They're inside, so we've got to be quiet. Promise not to give us up?"

"Sure." Jamie pointed to some items in the piles he and John had assembled, but Wanda wasn't paying attention. Her mind was still empty of words to say to John, so all she could do was watch the orange-haired man. The Aussie hadn't said anything either. He had re-holstered his jaw, but otherwise he hadn't moved. He continued to stare at her, through her. Uneasy under his gaze, Wanda shifted her weight and pulled her hoodie tighter around her.

"What are you looking at?" she almost shouted, but she remembered her promise to Jamie at the last second and her words changed to a hiss.

John finally blinked. "A stranger." He rubbed his hands on his thighs, then took to assembling his prank with Jamie. "Didn't realize you'd let the rock man move in so fast."

The Witch crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"

St. John waved an idle hand in the air. "Nothing. I'm happy for you two." He looked up and plastered a fake smile across his face. "May you be blessed with a dozen fat, broody babies." He rubbed his chin in thought before continuing, "I do hope they take after you. Your looks are classic, while that bad boy grudge thing went out with Kurt Cobain."

Wanda rubbed the bridge of her nose. "What nonsense are you spouting now?"

"Aww, come on, luv. I'm not as naïve as Jamie here." St. John ignored the boy's objection. "You're leaving his room, late at night, in his clothes, promising to come back. . ."

The sound of Wanda's teeth grinding competed with the guitar playing coming from Lance's room. The Witch long forgot her promise to Jamie to keep quiet. "What are you saying?"

"You know what I'm saying. Let the kid here keep his innocence." John nodded toward Jamie, who pouted for being kept out of the loop. Wanda seethed; lights flickered. A minute ago she was considering dating this guy. Again. She had obviously inhaled too many nail polish fumes. Her mind ran through a hundred retorts and insults for the Aussie, but she wasn't fast enough.

John's mouth wouldn't stop running. "Was it any good? I mean, I didn't _hear_ anything and that's never a good sign, but with your powers you can take care of that pretty easy. Is -"

"I'm not sleeping with Lance!" she shouted and hexed the walls of the hallway. Doors opened a crack and slammed with a force to knock photographs off the wall.

"No!" Jamie cried as his half-assembled prank fell apart and doors reopened. Bobby, Ray, Roberto, Sam, Scott, Armel, Lance, and Piotr all wandered into the hallway to see what the commotion was about.

John and Wanda didn't notice. They were standing less than a foot apart, faces contorted in angry, ugly ways. "Bollocks! I wasn't born yesterday!"

"Are you sure? You're acting pretty juvenile to me!"

"Good! I'd rather be juvenile than dark and broody, even if that is what turns you on!"

"You know nothing about turning me on!"

"I know plenty!" The pyromaniac counted on his fingers. "Foreign accents, mall bathrooms, dressing rooms, dark leather, dark chocolate, dark alleys, dark -"

Wanda paled, somehow she knew each of those were true, but couldn't remember ever being turned on in dark alleys or mall bathrooms. Her vision tunneled and at the end of the tunnel she shouted, "PURPLE PEEPS!" She didn't understand why and didn't dwell on it. A movement from the corner of her eyes caught her attention.

Rubbing his eyes, Ray stepped into the hallway. "Jesus, why don't you two just screw each other and get rid of all this sexual tension, so we can all get some sleep." The hallway grew silent. No one ventured a breath as the Scarlet Witch's scarlet face turned to the punk. Blinding blue light wrapped itself around his body and sent him and Bobby standing behind him into their closet.

"That was awesome!" Jamie shouted. The closet door opened and the boys stumbled out dressed in tacky homemade Christmas sweaters and with their underwear on the outside of their pants. Jamie jumped up and down. "No! That was beyond awesome!" The boy ran toward Wanda, arms open for a hug. Someone grabbed ahold of the collar of his shirt and held him back. Jamie fell backwards and split into two. They looked up at St. John, who held the original Jamie by his shirt, but the Aussie kept his gaze on the Witch. "What'd you do that for?" the Dupe asked.

In eye-lock with Wanda, John barely moved when he spoke. "It's not a good idea to hug her."

The Jamies's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?" one asked. "She doesn't hurt her friends, and she let me watch TV with her," said the other.

The anger subsided from his face, replaced with sorrow. "No, she'll hurt whoever she feels like."

The Jamies stood up and pulled themselves together. "But you can do it, and she doesn't hurt you."

"Not anymore." John took several steps backward, guiding Jamie with him. "Come on, little Dr. Evil, time to go." John took a chance and turned his back on the Witch. Once the two were out of sight, Wanda screamed and hexed everyone still in the hallway. She stomped by each and every shocked face covered in honey and feathers.

* * *

(1) Referring to Dante's _Divine Comedy_.

(2) In Chapter 12, Wanda had an intense argument with Magneto about the witches and witchcraft.

(3) Kitty and Rogue have been fighting since Chapter 10. Remy and Piotr have been fighting since Chapter 3.

(4) Jean explored Rogue's mindscape in Chapter 12.

(5) All of this was first mentioned in _November Rain_: Chapter 28/29, and subsequently since then.

(6) Wanda broke up with John outside their hotel in _November Rain_: Chapter 25.

**Next on **_**A Light that Never Goes Out**_**: **A true Goldylocks moment, trouble at school, and roommate tensions rise.


	14. Trouble in Paradise, Baby

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. I am to a spiritual level beyond material possessions. Therefore, I must borrow everyone else's.

* * *

**_There is a Light that Never Goes Out_: Chapter Fourteen –Trouble in Paradise, Baby**

At 6:00 am Kitty's wind-up alarm sounded. She had shorted out enough digital alarm clocks in half-conscious stupors that Xavier bought her an old-fashioned one with gears instead of electronics. The girl had to remember to wind it, but it worked. She rolled over and switched it off.

Kitty felt the cold air in the room on her exposed face and dreaded uncovering herself. Days like these were meant to be spent in bed. At least until the sun came up and warmed things up a bit. She sighed. There was a test first hour, and she'd used her study time last night teaching Piotr about Hanukkah in preparation for him going to Chicago with her that weekend and meeting her parents. It shouldn't have taken as long as it did, but Piotr started off in a brooding mood that he didn't get out of until they wrote a letter to his sister.

Accepting the inevitable, Kitty opened her eyes. When her eyes adjusted to the ambient lighting in the room, she saw something she hadn't see all week. Across from her, Rogue's bed had a Rogue-sized lump in it underneath the comforter and at least two extra blankets.

Kitty's forehead creased and lips pursed. Did Rogue forget that as long as she defended Remy that they were at war? Her blood pumped harder; her face reddened. On the plus side, she wasn't nearly as cold anymore.

Comforter flew to the wall; feet slammed to the floor and stomped to the other bed. "Did you think I wouldn't, like, notice that your wide ass moved back in?" Kitty grabbed the shoulder of the lump, and it lazily rolled over, revealing its face. It wasn't Rogue.

The entire mansion heard Kitty's scream. The only acknowledgment St. John Allerdyce gave Kitty's verbal assault was one hand blindly flaying for the snooze button. Unfortunately, he only found Kitty's breast. That action only increased the volume of Kitty's scream and added a flogging to the boy in the Rogue's bed.

* * *

"This blows," Wanda slammed her locker door. Lance pulled back his fingers just in time. Wanda continued ranting as if she didn't notice. "It's torture to sleep in Jean's room."

"What's so bad about it again?"

Wanda paused, eyebrow raised. "It's Jean. I didn't think it needed further explanation." Wanda slung her bag over her shoulder and plowed down the hallway.

Although Wanda only used her powers unconsciously at school, she had gained a reputation of being cursed. Like a black cat, trouble came when you crossed her path. Some said she was being punished for stealing a monkey paw from a shaman. Others said gypsies were punishing her for her father's treacherous acts. The wrestling team got the idea that she seduced a witch's husband at the strip joint she worked at.

The rumors made Wanda smile inside. Not only did the claustrophobic crowds thin at her approach, but she didn't have to do anything to make it happen. She felt more powerful every step she took.

Wanda wasn't the only one with crazy rumors attached to her. According to the bathroom walls, Lance was Wanda's indentured man of sorts. He either lied to the witch to throw suspicion off Wanda, or he told her about the monkey paw. Now, he was bound to her eternally. And doomed to wear his hair in nineties grunge fashion.

In Wanda's wake, Lance jogged to catch up. "Why don't you switch with Rogue? She didn't seem to happy when the Professor told her she had to go back to Kitty's room."

A sophomore launched himself into a classroom as Wanda approached. One corner of her mouth turned up. "I already asked. Rogue won't do it. She said she spends too much time with Jean as it is."

Lance shook his head, remembering the morning debacle and meeting. Everyone had been gathered in the Hall, Xavier told them that Kitty screamed because she found John sleeping in Rogue's bed, blabbed on and on about teamwork and cooperation and getting along, and then he dropped the bomb: everyone would have to return to their originally assigned rooms, no exceptions. There would be a co-ed curfew and a lights out. Sabertooth and Mastermind would be making rounds to enforce these new rules. Neither Acolyte appeared to be happy with the arrangement and warned that they would be sharing their unhappiness with those who made their job difficult.

St. John Allerdyce ruined Lance's life again. With one thoughtless move, John moved Wanda out of his room. Now there were fewer opportunities to earn points with her. He shook his head. "What made that idiot think that he could sleep in Rogue's bed?"

Wanda's face grew cold. Not even the freshman running into an open locker door could warm her up. "I don't want to talk about him and his idiocy."

Lance kept in step with Wanda, but hesitated before saying his next words. "I noticed things didn't go well last night (1)."

Wanda's voice lowered into a growl. "Did you not hear me? I said I didn't want to talk about it."

He licked his lips. If she was giving up on John all together, then he could step up. Except he wanted to do everything he could to make sure he wasn't going to be a rebound. "Did you want me to talk to him?"

Her face reddened and eyes narrowed. The Witch refused to look at him. "Talk to who?"

Lance rolled his eyes. "You know who."

The air became silent between them. The fluorescent light bulbs over their heads shuttered in their casings. Wanda stopped; she and Lance had come to their split off point in front of Lance's woodshop class. A few burly seniors loitered in the doorway. "Why bother?" she spat.

"To fix things."

"I'm fine!" One of the bulbs slipped and fell to the floor, shattering. Wanda took a deep breath and used a few meditation techniques the Winding Way Coven had shown her. The lights stopped shaking, but Wanda's anger remained. "I can take care of myself. I don't need you or Pietro or Father to fix my problems!"

"Fine, Miss Bitchy. I'm going to be late for class." He shoved passed the seniors in the doorway and disappeared into the machinery.

Wanda spun around to stomp to her own class, but came face to face with a Bayville High Wrestling sweatshirt. She glared upward, wondering who had dared to cross her path and be cursed.

He was tall yet build with a neck as wide as his head. The wrestling captain smiled, showing off some dimples. "Trouble in paradise, baby? You know, a girl like you doesn't have to slum around with Alvers."

Dropping her arms, Wanda screamed to the heavens, "FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT SLEEPING WITH LANCE (1)!" The bell rang and the patter of footsteps in the hallway diminished.

"Really?" The wrestling captain raised his eyebrows, but his salesman smile remained. "Then the door is open, and opportunity's a knocking."

The captain stepped closer, invading Wanda's personal space bubble. She took a step back but bumped into his friend. "What door?" Her bubble had been growing bigger at school the last few days, not smaller. The memo obviously hadn't reached these two. The closeness made her uncomfortable, but she attempted not to show it on her face. Lights flashed above her.

The friend behind her slipped his arm around her shoulders and whispered into her ear, "The door to the promise land, baby." His hands slipped lightly down her arms and paused near her breasts.

Wanda felt the muscles in his hand twitch, reaching; she finally understood what was happening. "Don't touch me!" she screamed, and a nearby drinking fountain erupted. She hexed the wrestler behind her. He slipped into a stack of old textbooks. The books took on a life of their own and pinned him on his stomach to the floor. The water from the fountain was spilling near his mouth, threatening to drown him.

"You're not cursed! You're a Mutie!" shouted the wrestling captain. "I can't believe I hit on a Mutie."

In a second Wanda found herself on her back with her arms pulled across her body in opposite directions. He pinned down her legs with his knee and put his face so close to hers that his spit landed across her check. "Let Cameron go, you genejoke," he said through clenched teeth.

Wanda wished she could send hex bolts from her eyes. Her hexes only skidded across the floor, pulling up tiles. How could this happen? She had the power. How dare he take it from her? A mere human could not match her!

The wrestling captain loosened his grip, then slammed her upper body back to the floor. "Let him go!" His words were met with an icy glare. The friend pinned to the floor began to choke on the water flowing into his mouth. Wanda was pinned to the ground, but she still had the power.

Water continued to spew from the fountain, drenching the witch and the wrestlers. The captain moved to slam Wanda into the floor again, but his grip slipped. With a hand almost free, she managed to hex his sweatshirt. The hood flew up over his eyes and the pull strings tightened and wrapped around his throat.

"I am a witch. I am a mutant. I have power over you. Don't you ever forget it!" Wanda's hands glowed. Lights burst overhead, sending shards of glass sprinkling into the water below.

Hearing the commotion, students started poking their heads out into the hallway. Two of those people were Jean and Kitty. "Wanda, stop!" Kitty tried to approach her, but fell through the floor a few feet from the witch, trapping her up to her thigh.

Jean attempted to enter her mind, but it was such a mess that she was soon shoved out. All that was left was talking. "Wanda, you're at school. You're scaring people!"

"I _am_ scary." She threw a hex bolt at her roommate, but the redhead easily dodged it.

"These people are innocents. They -"

Remembering the words whispered into her ear, Wanda held back a shudder. "They aren't so innocent."

"That's not for you to say. You aren't a god!"

Wanda scowled. "Aren't I? A goddess among insects. You can't even stop me."

The redhead tensed, and for a moment her face flushed with anger. Jean wasn't powerless, but Wanda knew that Jean wouldn't use her powers. Jean regained her cool quickly and shouted as she deflected spraying water. "Can you even stop yourself? You have no self-control!"

"I can stop anytime I want."

Jean sneered. "Prove it."

"Why?"

Jean snickered. "You can't, can you? Your powers are your crutch. You can't 'solve' a problem without them."

A third voice entered their argument: "What is going on here?"

Wanda snapped her head to the right to see Principal Kelley marching onto the scene. While she was distracted, Jean used her telekinesis to wrap her belt around Wanda's hands behind the witch's back.

The witch roared. The drinking fountain fell through the floor, the locker doors slammed open and shut, and the emergency lights strobed eerily across her face. The water drained away from Cameron and the books lost their death grip. He rolled to his back and started coughing up water. The wrestling captain slipped and stumbled backward, falling against the brick wall. He managed to loosen the strings around his neck, but the hood itself remained taut around his face.

Jean furrowed her brow. It was impossible for Jean to answer Principal Kelley's question without losing her grip on Wanda. Jean tried to sneak a few calming suggestions into Wanda's head, but the witch's powers deflected them back at the redhead, complicating her task.

Principal Kelley's voice grew sterner. "Don't make me repeat myself!"

Kitty spoke up from her position, her leg trapped in the floor. "Jean and I, like, heard some crashes from Trig, and saw a fight between Wanda, Cameron, and Jacob. We totally tried to stop it. I don't know what started it. Knowing Jacob, he probably, like, grabbed her ass or something."

"I did not!" Jacob mumbled from inside his sweatshirt hood. "We was only talking with her, and she flipped out. Psycho mutie bitch!"

"Jacob, cussing is inappropriate behavior."

"Cussing?" Wanda screamed. "How about cornering me and suggesting…." She shuttered then snapped her head to Cameron coughing on the floor. "That one grabbed me!"

Kelley approached the Witch and looked her in the eye. "Why should I believe a word you say, Miss Maximoff? These men are decorated athletes; they know that if they act inappropriately, even with a mutant, that they will be penalized." Principal Kelley turned to Jean. "Just as you should remember, Miss Grey and Miss Pryde, that using your powers on school grounds is prohibited." The Principal surveyed the scene once more, then pointed to the girls. "You three have in-school suspension for two days –"

"But we tried to stop–" Kitty exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes.

Kelley's voice deepened. "That is the penalty for the first use of your powers on school grounds. It might change once the PTA hears of this mess." Kelley pointed to Jacob. "You have a detention for cussing. Take Cameron to the school nurse, and then head back to class. You three get your things and head to in-school." He turned his back and waved down a janitor.

"WHAT!" Wanda screamed and renewed her struggles. Wanda dropped all concentration on holding the wrestlers and Kitty down, and the lockers near the Principal shook. "Handsy Cameron gets off?"

Principal Kelley turned, successfully hiding any fear felt from Wanda's display. "This is about integrity, Miss Maximoff. You have none. They do. Boys, head to the nurse." In a flash, the boys were gone.

"I am punished for defending myself! That isn't right."

"As I said, there is no one but yourself touting that story. You are being punished for using your powers on school grounds, which twenty or more people witnessed." Wanda screamed again, but Principal Kelley merely turned his back and mumbled barely loud enough for them to hear over Wanda's tantrum, "I knew I never should have let your kind back into this school."

Sweat dripped down Jean's forehead, and she fell to her knees. Wanda seemed to grow stronger, while Jean's strength was fading. "Wanda, please calm down," she pleaded.

The witch snapped her head in Jean's direction. "Make me!"

The redhead spoke calmly in the hopes it might calm the witch. "Lashing out this way will not change anything." Jean grunted, closed her eyes, and increased her hold on her. "It won't take back whatever Cameron and Jacob did to you; it won't make your suspension go away; and it won't make humans fear us less."

"The fear keeps them in their place!" she snapped.

Jean closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, it only makes them develop more innovative ways to strike us, harder and faster. Fear is not the answer. Tolerance, then understanding, and finally acceptance –"

Wanda kicked a puddle of water in Jean's face. "I don't want to hear your flower-wearing, hippie bullshit!" Wanda renewed her efforts to shed her bindings; water splashed, lights strobed.

Jean spit and let the water drip from her face. Her grip on Wanda tightened, but the fatigue was showing on her face. Jean glanced over her shoulder where Kitty held her soaked knees and cried. "Kitty, are you okay?"

The girl sniffled, then lifted her head. "No! I missed my test this morning because of stupid-John, and the teacher won't let me retake it, plus he gave me an extra assignment to do this weekend when I'm taking Piotr home to Chicago, and now I can't go to classes for two days! This'll go on my permanent record! I'll never get into Stanford now!"

Frustration showed through Jean's voice. "Can you put all that on-hold for me, Kit? I need you now."

Kitty brushed her wayward hair from her face, exhaled sharply and wiped any remaining tears off her face. "Yes," she sniffled again. "I am an X-Man, you know."

"Good, I need you to go find Rogue."

Kitty groaned. "Ugh, do I have to? Why don't you call her telepathically?"

"Kit, just do it!" Jean snapped.

Kitty jumped up, almost slipping on the wet floor, and passed her hands through the nearest wall. Before she broke out into a full-fledged Shadowcat sprint, she remembered her penalty for using her powers once. She spun around and huffed and puffed her way to Rogue's third hour classroom.

Once she was gone, Wanda prodded Jean. "Why didn't you use your telepathy, Miss Perfect?"

"Your powers interfere with my telepathy," she replied matter-of-factly. "I couldn't be sure if a message would reach her or be sent to Jane Doe."

"Bullshit." Jean's head snapped up, and Wanda continued. "My powers will only deflect direct attacks unless I hex you. You know that."

"Will you shut up already!" Jean tightened the belt holding Wanda's hands, making Wanda gasp in pain.

A puff of sulfur-smelling smoke and a bamf-sound accompanied the arrival of Kitty and Rogue.

"Why did you do that!" Kitty screamed at Rogue.

Rogue raised an eyebrow. "Ya said it was an emergency, so Ah bamfed."

"But what if Principal Kelley saw us? He might suspend me from school all-together!"

"Really?" Rogue grabbed Kitty's forearm and smiled. "Maybe Ah should bamf us into his office. Ah'll make it a real stinker too."

"You're so stupid sometimes, Rogue!" Kitty phased her arm through Rogue's grip and ran down the hallway to the bathroom. That way no one could see the tears fall again.

"At least Ah'm not datin' stupid!" Rogue called after her.

"Rogue, knock it off and help me with Wanda!" Jean strained to yell through clenched teeth.

The Goth finally took a second to survey the scene. She crossed her arms and leaned back. "What's goin' on here?"

Wanda nodded to Jean. "Cowardly Miss Perfect wouldn't let me destroy two perverted wrestling team worms or Principal Kelley."

Jean ground her teeth. "Just hold her for me while I take a break! We can't let her go until she calms down."

"No," said Rogue. She took a step back and leaned against the wall.

Jean flipped. "_No_?"

"Ya can't bottle up someone like Wanda. Not everyone's like ya," replied Rogue. Jean scowled. Wanda smirked. Rogue addressed Wanda, "Hey, ya wanna blow this joint?"

The witch nodded. "Sure, but I've got some people to take care of first."

Rogue raised her eyebrow and pushed off the wall. "Worthless wrestling stars? They're in the last years of the best years of their lives. There's better, more satisfyin' ways ta get at 'em than beatin' the hell outta 'em."

Wanda grinned wickedly. "Okay, coffee first. Then revenge."

"We'll talk 'bout it." Rogue turned to Jean, still on her knees. "All calm. Let her go."

Sweat circles formed under Jean's armpits. "She's a time bomb!"

Rogue's face darkened. "Let her go, or Ah'll make ya." She lazily peeled back a glove.

"Fine!" Jean released her hold. Wanda relished in her freedom and unleashed a brief display of her power.

Jean, exhausted, rose one foot at a time and pointed a finger in Rogue's face. "Whatever she does, it's on you too."

Rogue shrugged. "Ya have a good day too. See ya at practice." Jean huffed, spun around, and headed to in-school suspension. Rogue turned to the Witch, "What got up her shorts this mornin'?" Wanda shrugged.

* * *

Under a starless night sky, Cannonball shot across the jungle canopy. "Ah got it!" Suddenly, a monkey fell out of a tree, onto Sam's back. "AAHHH!" The monkey screamed and altered Cannonball's course, and he tangled himself in a cluster of vines. "Ah don't got it."

Colossus and Pyro stood fifty meters away on a stone vantage point, next to a waterfall, and saw Cannonball's disaster. "Petey, toss me!" Pyro shouted.

"I will not toss you through electric rings to capture the flag," Colossus replied. "My aim is not well."

"You've never even tried," Pyro whined.

A breeze passed by them, flipping their shirts over their heads. "Step aside! Let the real man do the work," Quicksilver said.

He ran across the tree tops and leapt through the first hoop, landed on a platform where Shadowcat was hiding as an opponent, stuck his tongue out at her, then sped to the top of a pole in the center of the platform, and grabbed a flag.

Bright lights flashed, blinding the mutants. "Simulation complete," said the Danger Room. The mutants made their way to Wolverine, who was standing in front of the locker rooms, some faster than others. The Canadian stood, ever stoic, with his arms crossed.

By the time Kitty reached them, Pietro was reiterating his success for the second time. "….Kit-Kat didn't even know what was coming! I probably could have slowed down to their speed and still won."

Logan snorted. "You call that a win?"

"I got the flag, didn't I? I'm totally carrying this team. We'd still be at the bottom of the jungle digging through quicksand if it wasn't for me."

St. John threw his hand in the air. "What are you talking about, Norma? Hammy-Sammy is the one who found the flag."

Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Please stop callin' meh 'Hammy-Sammy.'"

"Shut your yaps," Logan said, not loud, but forceful enough for his team to respect and abide. He paused for dramatic effect before continuing, "You want to know what I saw?"

Pietro shook his head. "No, not really, old man. I've got more important places to be." Pietro tried to take off, but Logan's hand snapped out and grabbed the back of the speedster's uniform.

"Too bad. You're gonna hear it." He tossed Pietro at Piotr who wrapped his steel arms around him. Once Pietro stopped protesting and struggling, Logan spoke again: "Amateurs. Chaos. No one was cooperating. There was no plan." He glared at Pietro. "Some showed up fifteen minutes late and left their ears in their room." He turned to John. "Others argumentative." Next Sam and Piotr. "Too tentative." His eyes lingered on Kitty. "Or your head was nowhere near the game. Before practice Sunday, each one of you needs to review the tape of today and come up with a plan to present to the rest of the team." Logan tuned out the groans and complaints. "Get out of here. Be better next time."

The boys disappeared in a flash, while Kitty shuffled toward the girl's locker room. As she pushed open the door, Logan called out, "What's eating you, Half-pint?"

Logan's nickname for her made her smile for a second. She let the door swing closed, but replied while facing it, not Logan. "School, parents, life, you know."

Logan squinted at her face. "You look like you need a two-week vacation."

She sighed and looked to the ceiling. "That would totally be, like, heaven." Her eyes were wet, but the tears had yet to fall.

"You know you can't have one now."

Kitty's head fell to her feet. She shuffled her foot against the floor. "I know."

Logan coughed. "When are you and Tin Can heading to Chicago?"

With her eyes still focused on anywhere but Logan, Kitty answered, "Beast is flying us over in about an hour."

He nodded. "You enjoy your weekend. Don't worry if the weather is too bad for you to make it back before practice on Sunday." Logan winked. "And if it turns out like Thanksgiving, you know my number [2]."

In a sudden fit of energy, Kitty launched a hug at Logan. He patted her back awkwardly and let her squeeze the daylights out of him. It was several minutes before she let go, leaving a small wet spot on his uniform. She sniffled and wiped any remaining tears from her cheeks. "Thank you, Logan."

"Give me a warning next time, Half-pint." Logan smiled faintly.

* * *

Unresolved tension filled the air of the small room with sky blue walls, flowered sheets, and a trundle bed. Both girls sat in their respected beds in their pajamas reading: Jean a textbook, Wanda a magazine she had found lying around the mansion. The redhead couldn't concentrate with the girl who almost massacred the wrestling team sitting practically beside her. She glanced over the top of her book, out the window. Purple-grey clouds filled the sky and gently dusted the world with snow. She watched the snowflakes fall for a few minutes. It relaxed her. Then Wanda turned a page. The dryness of the room contributed to the ear-numbing, raise-the-hair-on-the-back-of-your-neck scrape of one glossy page against another.

Jean finally broke the silence. "Could you turn that page any louder?" she hissed.

Wanda's face remained expressionless. "Probably."

The redhead sighed and tried again, more pleasantly. "How was coffee?"

"Hot." Wanda flipped a page in her magazine, trying extra hard to make noise without actually hexing the book. "How was your practice with Rogue?"

Jean gritted her teeth. "Fine."

"Really?" Wanda raised her eyebrows, but continued to read her magazine. "I know you failed at least one test. And I believe your practice ends at 8:00, but you stomped in here around 7:35…"

Jean slammed her textbook down on her stomach and snapped her head to the left. "Rogue was impossible, all right?"

Wanda shrugged. "I don't recall her leaving early from the practices you designed."

"That's because I know what I'm doing."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot. You are Perfect."

"You know what, I think I liked it better when we weren't talking to each other." Jean flopped over onto her right side so her back was toward the Witch and violently flipped open her textbook.

"Wow. I never thought we would agree on anything." The two continued reading in silence until lights out.

* * *

In the boy's wing, mischief was afoot, but that was a story for the next day. In Jamie and Remy's room, the little man grinned widely when he snuggled into his own bed. St. John let him sleep in his bed in Kurt's room the night before, but the sheets smelt like cigarettes, and it kept him up. Nothing could ruin his peaceful sleep in his Avatar: The Last Airbender sheets and stuffed bear that he hid during the day so the other boys won't make fun of him. Except Remy's phone vibrating.

"Are you going to answer that?" Jamie whispers after the second series of "rings."

Remy groaned and turned over.

"Your phone is ringing," Jamie said slightly louder.

"Oh," Remy said as he rubbed his eyes. He picked up his phone and put it to his ear. "What do you want, Fool?"

Jamie couldn't hear what the person was saying on the other end, but the smile on Remy's face told him it was something amusing.

"Roguey and I are better t'en ever. T'anks for de push to tell her 'bout de deal. Worked out better t'en I could imagine." Remy paused, then laughed. "Gazoontite. And de fact dat you have a cold makes my day. (1)" The Cajun snapped his phone shut, turned off the ringer, and fell back asleep.

* * *

(1) That was last chapter, people. I know I published it, like, a year ago, but still!

(2) Back in _November Rain_: Chapter 26 – Trouble Follows You. Logan picked up Kitty early from Thanksgiving break, because her parents were fighting.

**Next time on **_**Light**_**:** Roommate prank(s), Remy and Kurt bond, plus Mystery Saturday Night Teambuilding!


End file.
